A Tournament and an Alchemy Teacher
by Aleska1492
Summary: The Tri-wizard Tournament is coming to Hogwarts, but so is Amestris. As a way of making allies, Mustang assigns Juna Elric to take a teaching job at a magic school in a foreign country. Watch as she tries to teach kids who are mostly around her age while making alliances between Magical Britain and Amestris. Hopefully, nobody does anything too stupid.
1. Chapter 1

**Hello!**

**This idea has been bothering me for a while, so I thought, "Why not get it down so I stop going crazy?" Anyway, I hope you guys like it.**

**I've been unable to stop thinking about FMA:B, and ended up making an OC, Juna Elric. She will be one of the main characters, but she won't effect the GoF plot too much: aka Harry will still be selected and all that stuff. There is also a surprise at the end of the chapter, but I'll let you read to find out.**

** Juna won't have magic, so all she has at her disposal is her alchemy, her close combat skills, her brain, and her pistol when she bothers to use it (which won't be very often if at all as she prefers close combat and alchemy).**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Fullmetal Alchemist (either one) or Harry Potter.**

**I hope you enjoy!**

**Chapter 1: The New Staff or Wait, Magic Exists?**

The start of term feast at Hogwarts was, as usual, amazing.

That was usually the first thing Harry thought after the sorting finished, but not today.

Today it was, "Who is Professor Elric?"

Professor Elric is their new alchemy teacher, something Hogwarts apparently hasn't had in over a century. She was not very tall, and didn't look older than some of the fourth years in his class. Dumbledore had mentioned she was Hogwarts's youngest professor, but that's all he ever said when someone asked.

She was no taller than 162 cm, had bright golden hair that met her shoulder when up in a ponytail, and two long bangs framing her face, and her eyes, no, _eye_, was a pool of molten gold, the left one was covered by an eye-patch. She wasn't tan, but she wasn't pale.

She dressed much more like a muggle than a wizard or witch. She had on a white dress shirt under a black vest with a black and white, striped tie, and a pair of black pants and knee-high combat boots. But that wasn't all, the most prominent parts of her outfit were a russet trench coat, and a pair of pure, white gloves.

She looked like a muggle who "traveled in style" as his walrus of an Uncle had always claimed to do when he dressed to go on a business trip.

Oh, those times of relative peace were lovely.

Anyway, she looked very out of place surrounded by robes and pointy hats, but she didn't seem very bothered by that. In fact, she didn't show any signs of a positive or negative emotion on her face, it was nearly blank if not for the slight interest he caught in her eye when she was speaking with Snape and McGonagall.

"...ry"

Either she was very good at hiding her thoughts on something, or she just generally didn't show emotion.

".arry"

He wondered what she was talking to Snape about, he seemed to find her less of a "dunderhead" than most people.

"Harry!"

He jumped and turned to Hermione, who looked ready to smack his arm to get his attention. Had he been that lost in thought? He asked sheepishly, "What is it, Hermione? I didn't hear you."

The bushy-haired brunette sighed, "I asked what you think of Professor Elric. You've been staring at her for the last few minutes."

Oh, "Um…" Harry wasn't sure what to say to that, "I guess, she seems to stand out?"

The raised eyebrow he got was all he needed to know he had to elaborate, "She's dressed more like a muggle than a witch, and she seems kind of…" he tried to think of a word.

"Emotionless?"

"Yeah, let's go with that." Harry sighed, "It's just, why revive alchemy now when the Triwizard Tournament is happening? What's so important about bringing it in now and not sooner or later?"

Ron had finally looked up from his pile of mashed potatoes, his mouth clear of food for once when he spoke, "I dunno, mate. You might be looking too much into it."

Hermione, meanwhile, began some of her own observations, "I wonder where she's from. She looks German, but you don't really see golden eyes very often anywhere. The only other person I've ever seen them on was Madame Hooch, and she's more of an amber than a gold, and Lupin's were more yellow, like all werewolves…"

It was Ron's turn to sigh, "Do your mumbling later, 'Mione. Just eat for Merlin's sake!"

Hermione looked to Ron with a huff, but, for once, listened to him and dug into the salad she had placed on her plate with a light huff and a pout, mumbling about forced labor.

Harry decided it was best to remain quiet, lest he gain the wrath of his much smarter and skilled-in-every-way-lady-friend, and dug into the piece of steak before it grew cold. Not that it would with the stasis charm that was cast on all the food at the feast, but it was the thought that count, right?

…

When Juna had originally been assigned to this job, she had been hesitant to accept it.

After all, as an Alchemist, she was quite fond of the logical, and magic was not logical in any way, shape, or form. She may approve of creativity, but magic was far beyond her comprehension of imaginative.

Anyway, it was a month prior to the start of this school's term, Juna was in her barracks room writing up some of her research notes, coded mind you, she wasn't stupid, when she heard Mustang's voice over the intercom, "Lieutenant Colonel Elric, you are needed in my office for a mission."

She kept her face blank, Mustang knew she hated being interrupted from her research, so why was he calling her now? It better be important or she'll punch him. She gently ran a metal finger over her automail eye, a habit she did when deep in thought that she never quite got out of after she got her prosthetics, before placing her gloves and eyepatch on and leaving quietly to get this over with.

It didn't take her long to reach the Flame Alchemist's office, she gave a polite knock.

"Enter, Alloy Eye."

She did, noting there were two people in the room with the dark-haired Colonel.

She turned to Mustang, "I hope there is a reason you called me here. I was in the middle of my research."

The Flame Alchemist stared calmly at his fellow State Alchemist, before giving a sigh, "My apologies, Alloy Eye, but you are needed for this mission. You are the only State Alchemist currently available, that isn't across the continent, I would trust on this mission."

She raised her visible eyebrow, gesturing him to continue, her face carefully blank.

"These two fine fellows are Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore and Minerva McGonagall. They are the ones who requested the mission."

She turns to them, giving an uninterested once-over of both of them. They were both clad in strange dresses or robes. The woman was in darker clothing with a pointy hat; she looked stern. The man was in bizarre blue robes with… were those cats moving? Anyway, his hair and beard were long enough to tuck into his belt, and there was a pair of half-moon spectacles on his crooked nose.

They looked like wizards and witches from the children's fairy tales.

She held out her left hand, "Lieutenant Colonel Juna Elric, also known as the Alloy Eye Alchemist."

The spectacled man shook first, then the woman, "It's a pleasure to meet you, my dear. For the sake of ease, you may refer to me how you prefer, I am headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry in Scotland. Which is northwest of Drachma."

Juna raises in eyebrow skeptically, "You claim magic is real to an alchemist, a person who is a firm believer of logical explanations. I would like proof beyond your word."

The woman, Minerva McGonagall if she recalled correctly, took out a stick from her sleeve and asked if there was a cup she could use.

Juna gave her superior a bland look, and without breaking eye-contact clapped her hands and used the window behind him to transmute a glass pitcher.

Mustang returned the look, "Was this for the miniskirt comment yesterday?"

"Naturally."

She handed the elder woman the pitcher, careful to not break it with her grip as she couldn't feel with either hand how hard she was pressing.

The so-called witch pointed her stick at the pitcher and with a muttered word she didn't catch, the pitcher turned into a canary. She returned the canary to pitcher form after the two alchemist observed the transformation for a few seconds.

Juna's non-prosthetic eye widened slightly, "That ignored the laws of Equivalent Exchange… you can't make a living thing out of something that isn't living. How does it work? What happened to that pitcher as it became a canary? Was that canary sentient?" she began to ask another question, but Mustang cleared his throat. She quieted down.

The woman, McGonagall, spoke this time, "I am sure your questions can be answered more in depth at a later time, but that was an example of what magic can do, and one of the things the students learn. A long time ago, Alchemy was also a subject taught in Hogwarts, but due to a lack of funding at the time, the course was taken out from the program. We would like to bring the class back, and to do this, we need a teacher. Mr. Mustang, here, recommended you."

Juna's interest was peaked, but she did have a question for her fellow alchemist, "Why me? I don't exactly have a teaching license, and I'm not exactly someone you call out on a job lightly, Mustang. Especially since my brothers are both currently out of Central."

"It's either you or Armstrong at the moment, and I would rather not traumatize children with his… eccentricities…"

"I... see." Juna muttered, she turned back to the two magic users, 'witch' and 'wizard' sound too childish to her, "I will accept the mission, Mr. Dumbledore. Is there anything besides teaching, or is that all you are looking for? Also, how long would this mission take, and what do I gain from teaching at your school?"

Dumbledore's twinkly eyes stared for a moment, "Teaching will be your main job. It will last at least one year, and I can leave the job offer open for longer if you find yourself enjoying it. However, as you are a military officer, I believe you wouldn't stay there longer than necessary, am I correct?"

At her nod he continued, "This is also a diplomatic situation. This year, we are reviving a tournament where the three top wizarding schools in Europe join together to compete, and our ministry wishes to make an alliance with Amestris, so you are to teach at my school as a way of making connections with your country. Mr. Mustang here will be meeting regularly with the ministry, while you are teaching and building positive relations."

"I see." Juna took in the information, "What about my State Alchemist exam?" she asked Mustang.

"If you take this mission, you shall be exempt from taking the exam this year due to your circumstances."

She nodded, "I'll take the mission. We're going to need allies."

Mustang sighed, "You bet we do. You are probably one of our best options beside your brothers due to your spread out knowledge of alchemy. After all, you, like that damn twin midget of yours, know a decent amount about multiple types of alchemy and can help kids find their own specialty much easier than I would, not that I like to admit it."

Juna nodded again, then turned back to Dumbledore, "When do I leave, and is there any more information you have for me?"

Dumbledore took her straightforward nature in stride, taking out a file and a bag that seemed empty, "This file contains information about Hogwarts, including a map, as well as the Wizarding World in general. There is also a general schedule for the teachers in case you ever need to speak to one of them when they're free. I have also included some information on the two visiting schools, as I believe you would like to know about our guests."

She takes the file, "And the bag, sir?"

"This bag has what's known as an expansion charm on it. It makes the bag literally larger on the inside, so you can put much more things in it than you can normally, and it won't begin to feel heavy until it's full." McGonagall explained, "The bag currently has some books we believe will assist you in understanding our world."

"Thank you." She takes the bag, "Is that all?"

Dumbledore pipes up once more, "There is one more thing."

He pulls out a dictionary and a book with a title that said _A Guide to English Grammar_ translated into Amestrian, "This is a Amestrian-English dictionary, and the other is self explanatory by title. We have been communicating through the translation charm for this entire meeting, which allowed us to understand you and vice versa, but it wears off after a few hours, so I recommend you learn some English, so a charm doesn't have to be constantly renewed."

Juna takes the books, and opens to the first page of the dictionary to see a copy of both alphabets and how they are pronounced in the other language.

That will be helpful as she will be speaking and writing in this new language a month from now. It's a good thing she had a photographic memory or she'd never learn this in a month. Pouring through so much text in her childhood had helped her develop her brain so she could now easily recall information as if she had just read it a moment ago.

It was a handy skill she and her brothers developed during their quest to bring back Mom.

She gave it a quick scan, and nodded to the two in thanks.

She watched Dumbledore give a copy of the two books to Mustang, and then with a grandfatherly smile, he and McGonagall disappeared in a "POP" that caused the two Alchemists to jump and prepare for an attack.

Realizing they were reacting at nothing, they relaxed and Mustang turned to the female Elric, "So..." he began casually, "Do you plan to fix the window anytime soon?"

Her usual blank, almost dull, expression softened into a hint of a smirk, "Perhaps." she said airily, "What would you do in return?"

His eyebrow twitched, "...knew you wouldn't do it for free." he muttered grumpily, then louder, "I'll take you to that cafe you're so fond of, and pay for the meal so long as you don't purposely make it expensive."

She nodded, face bland again, "Acceptable, that will pay for the window, and for interrupting me from my research. Good day Colonel."

"And to you, Alloy Eye."

She fixed the window with a clap of her hands and left to return to her room in the barracks.

She had some new research to do, and some packing to complete.

…

The month had passed quickly, she mused. She ran a gloved finger over her prosthetic eye.

The dictionary had been quite helpful, and she had memorized the text within a week. Using the new vocabulary, she looked through the grammar book even quicker, as she could understand the terms and examples much easier due to memorizing the dictionary. Mustang had been kind enough to buy her a new set of notebooks for her English practice, which she used as a journal in order to give herself real world practice in using the language.

However, in her eagerness to learn, she, as always, forgot about looking after herself. She barely remembered to take showers every day, and she only remembered to drink because an officer would occasionally hand her a glass of water, which she would take absentmindedly without looking up from her page of notes. Another officer came in every few days with an apple of some other fruit when they realized she forgot to eat, and that was treated like the water glass scenario.

Besides that, she pulled off more all-nighters than she could count, not that she counted. In fact, about two weeks in, when Mustang finally noticed she hadn't left her room since the day he treated her to lunch, was the first day she really slept since starting her new research.

That was a particularly memorable day.

She had been in her pajamas since her actual clothes were drying on the clothesline outside her window. Mustang had approached her door, hiding his concern with his usual cocky smile, and knocked. She didn't hear him in her state of concentration.

He had tried three more times, then called out to her, "I'm coming in, Alloy Eye." with a hint of worry. Nobody would blame him, the girl hadn't eaten a proper meal in two weeks and hadn't slept, to their knowledge, for just as long.

Thus the Colonel had entered her bedroom, and Juna finally realized someone had been trying to get her attention, pulled herself into a sideways sitting pose and turned around to see that it was Mustang.

It was at that moment Mustang realized Juna was in her pajamas, a baggy t-shirt that used to belong to her father (she found it in the attic, and had clung to it as a souvenir when she was younger) and a pair of shorts she stole from Ed a few months back. She had changed into them when she realized her last remaining copy of her usual outfit, that wasn't torn beyond repair, was currently dirty from being constantly worn.

The pajamas did nothing to hide the metal limbs that kept her small, lean form capable of maneuverability.

Her eye-patch was still covering her automail eye, but he could see her entire left arm and right leg were metal. Her right arm ended right above her elbow, where flesh became automail, and the process was repeated on her left leg from right above the knee-cap down.

It was times like these when Mustang remembered that these kids had gone through Hell and back, and they only got more suffering for their troubles. It was a miracle Juna had even survived the night. Perhaps it was the signature Elric Stubbornness that kept her alive long enough for automail surgery.

Juna shifted slightly, so she could see Mustang better, unaware of the current predicament due to her sleep-deprived mind refusing to process the twenty-nine year-old man in her room as something that should be treated differently than he is at the moment. After all, he was an adult man standing in the doorway of her room, while she was in indecent attire. She should have at least thrown a textbook at his head by now if she had been in her right mind.

Mustang, regaining his mental capabilities upon realizing he was staring at his sleep-deprived subordinate, looked away politely. He may be a flirt, but he was no pedophile.

The blonde stared at him uncomprehendingly for a solid minute at the least before she asked, "... Why are you in my room, Colonel?" tilting her head to the right with her usual bland face showing signs of tiredness.

For a second Roy compared her to a baby panda due to how distinct her dark bags were, but shook the thought away for a more important matter. He answered, not looking at her, "Some subordinates noticed you have not left your room for two weeks, and were growing worried, so they asked me to check on you."

She stared again for a good minute,, "... Ye'are a horrible li'r." she murmured, her speech slurring from sleepiness. She yawned.

Mustang allowed himself to look at the teenager in concern, "When was the last time you ate?"

"Dunno~" she drawled out, "y'sterday? Two days 'go?" another yawn.

"How about the last time you had a drink of water?"

"...same time~? ...I th'nk? No... two h'rs 'go..."

"Slept?"

"..."

"Alloy Eye?" Roy was really growing concerned. Events like this where he tried to figure out when she last took care of her well being were not uncommon, but that didn't mean he liked them. Juna may be the eldest of the Elric siblings, if only by a few minutes in Ed's case, Fullmetal always emphasized that when they got together, but she seemed to be the worst when it came to taking care of herself if she got into her research.

Apparently it was how she dealt with grief and guilt, and also just how she got when very into a subject. She was probably still feeling residue grief for Hughes's death roughly one month ago. He, himself, would sometimes still find himself staring at the telephone, wondering if Hughes would call him randomly to brag about his family.

Anyway, the Colonel had started to feel like a parent during these times, trying to make sure his child was looking after themselves properly, even though he was only thirteen years older than her, "Juna," he used her first name, "when was the last time you slept?"

She averted her eyes, they were beginning to cloud with exhaustion now that her body and mind were returning to the same page. She muttered an answer under her breath.

"What was that?"

"... Three days b'fore th' miss'n was given? I think…" she muttered again, just loud enough for him to hear.

Mustang's eyes widened, he moved quicker than Juna's mind could comprehend in her tired state, and he snatched the books and pens from in front of her on the cot, checked to see if the ink on the page was dry, and closed the books, placing them on the shelf across the room.

The girl blinked, "Wha…?"

"You are going to sleep. I will not have my subordinates hurt because they didn't sleep properly." he turned back to the girl on the bed, his expression was more stern than usual.

Juna stared at him uncomprehendingly, "M' book~..." she reached towards the shelf, waving her arm as if that would somehow levitate the book back to her hands.

"Will still be there when you wake up." Mustang finished for her, and in a move he would not have done usually without some perverted comment, he picked her up bridal style, set her in his lap before pulling the covers back and placing her back on the bed.

He got an undignified squeak and a sleepy, blushing girl for his troubles, but he paid that little mind.

He placed a hand on her metallic, left shoulder, and gave her a gentle push back so her head landed on the pillow. Finally he pulled the covers over her small frame and found she had finally given in to her body's urge to sleep.

Mustang couldn't help the fond smile that made its way onto his face. The Elrics had a strange habit of bringing out his parental side, whether they knew it or not, and as the two brothers often traveled around while Juna stayed back in Central and did her part in looking for leads, Mustang mostly felt this paternal feeling around Juna.

His body seemed to move on instinct as he did something that would have sent Hughes into fit of laughter and a large round of "I told you so"s. He tucked the girl in and gave her a gentle pat on the forehead, pushing a strand of gold hair out of her face so it didn't get in her eye.

The last thing he did was undo the eye-patch and place it on her night-side table and left after leaving a note.

She'd slept through the rest of the day, and the day after, waking up right in time for dinner. Mustang checked on her regularly in the morning and evening, not that he willingly admitted it, and had given her a lecture about looking after one's own health when he walked in and saw her awake. She had listened to him as she did not want the note he left to come true.

**_Whenever you wake up, go straight to the cafeteria and get something to eat, I asked the cook to make you a meal when you come in. If you don't I will know, and I will make you clean the barracks bathrooms every evening for the next week, got it? This will also apply to your sleeping schedule._**

She would rather not be subject to such torture, thank you very much, so she had made a physical effort to eat at least one meal a day, and be asleep by eleven at night. It didn't always work, but it was the thought that count, right?

Either way, by the time it was time for her to go to Hogwarts two weeks later, she was fully recovered to her old self, and Mustang was finally able to trust her with a schedule again.

Minerva McGonagall was the one to pick her up, and they had traveled to Hogwarts via something the elder woman referred to as a "portkey" if Juna recalled correctly.

The woman had instructed her to grab hold of a ragged boot that should have by all means been in the trash. Juna had, like any sane person, looked at the elder woman like she had a screw loose, but when the stern witch did nothing but stare seriously in return, Juna gingerly placed a gloved finger on the dumpster boot and refrained herself from making a rude comment.

She felt a distinct pull at her navel, and a horrible pain in her automail ports and suddenly, she's crouched in the damp grass outside the gates of Hogwarts.

It took all her self control to not lay on her face, gasping in pain and nausea, but she managed to keep a straight face, somehow.

McGonagall turned to the younger female, "Have you been able to grasp any English?" she asked, slower than average talking speed, but not slow enough for it to be too obvious.

Juna responded as if she had been speaking English for much longer than a month, "I have grasped enough to articulate my teachings properly to the students, Professor McGonagall. However, I still have difficulty with things like idioms and jokes."

McGonagall looked impressed. She still had an Amestrian accent, which sounded German to the untrained ear, but she had the fluency to fool anyone. The Transfiguration Professor wondered if all Alchemists were like this or if it was just a select few.

"Very well, then, Miss Elric." she regained her composure, "As we are going to be colleagues for the year, you may address me as Minerva if you wish."

"Then you may address me how you like, as well."

With that, Juna had been taken into the magnificent Hogwarts castle and introduced to the staff, most of it as the Defense Professor wasn't there yet, the Divination Professor was in her tower, and the Muggle Studies Professor was currently working on something in his room according to the School Nurse, Madame Pomfrey.

She was also given a tour, but Minerva mainly just warned her about certain features like moving staircases, trick steps, ghosts, particularly the poltergeist, and moving paintings.

It had been very helpful, and allowed her to actually process the lack of Equivalent Exchange with much more ease, as she knew she'd have to get used to this quickly or her status as a … muggle she believed the term was… would be found out.

Minerva had given her a small charm, a chain earring, with a charm, she explained, that would keep her from being affected by muggle warding charms. She apparently needed it if she was to be staying in Hogwarts as she wasn't magical.

She was happy the brats didn't come until tomorrow, or she'd have an overload in her brain.

Her classroom connected to her office and sleeping quarters, and she didn't really do anything beyond adding books to the empty shelves and placing her clothes in the wardrobe. Automail maintenance gear was set by the desk in the office.

Minerva promised she would take Juna to Diagon Alley the next day in order to buy anything she might need, and when asked about books, Juna handed her a copy of a textbook she and her brothers had used, that she'd translated into English, saying it would need to be copied as it was the only English copy there was at the moment.

The last thing the elder professor explained before leaving Juna to her own devices had been about Houselves. If she didn't feel like eating in the Great Hall where the teachers were introduced, then she could ask a house elf to deliver a meal to her quarters. It was convenient, all she had to do was say her Houself's name, "Micky".

_POP_!

Juna jumped at the sudden noise coming from behind her, and it took a lot of discipline to keep herself from transmuting the floor into spikes. She turned to find the little creature looking at her expectantly, "Mistress Elric called Micky?"

"Yes." Juna confirmed, "I just want to make a few things clear so both of us can make it through the year without a life threatening situation."

The Houself nodded excitedly, "Micky's listening, Mistress Elric."

"I will begin with saying I would prefer if you don't… aparate? Is that the term? Behind me." the alchemist explains, "I am a military officer, and I have developed a habit of showing wariness to those approaching from any blind spot. It makes me uncomfortable, and I may lash out unintentionally if I am under stress."

Micky nodded, "Micky will remember."

"The next thing is not mandatory if it makes you more comfortable, but I would prefer if you don't refer to me as 'Mistress'. I would prefer 'Miss' if you could do that for me. However, this is your choice as I don't want to force something you don't want to do on you. Is that clear."

A nod, "Yes, Miss Elric. Micky will attempt to use your preferred address."

"Thank you. The final thing will be that you do not touch my things. I do own some objects that could be potentially dangerous, or valuable, and while I tend to keep them under lock and key, I would simply prefer my things be left untouched. The room is yours to clean, and I will leave the dirty laundry in a specific place for you, but I will maintain the rest of my belongings if that is alright."

This final order caused the little elf's ears to droop for a moment before he allowed himself time to consider the circumstances, "Micky understands, and will avoid touching Miss Elric's belongings barring laundry."

"Thank you, Micky. That is all."

The elf bowed before disappearing with another _POP_! This time in front of her as if to reassure her that he would hold his end of the deal.

She changed into her pajamas, leaving her clothes on a chair in the corner with a note for the Houself, and crawled into bed, thinking it best to get some sleep to sleep off the time difference.

The next day came quickly, and McGonagall took Juna to Diagon Alley to set up an account at Gringotts and to go shopping for any classroom supplies she would need, like chalk and parchment (plus a book or fifty that came from her converted Cenz).

The two had spent most of the day there in the shopping district, and the elder teacher had treated the younger Alchemist to a snack at an ice cream shop called "Florean Fortesque's" or something along those lines.

Now when the students were gathered in the castle, everything seems louder, more overwhelming. She would never have gotten through this without help had she not had some time to adjust. Thankfully the other schools wouldn't be coming until the end of next month.

She was currently conversing with Professor Snape, the Potions Professor, in a surprisingly refreshing conversation. He seemed to be the only one besides Minerva and Madame Pince, the Librarian, who didn't look at her like a child. She couldn't say about the Defense Professor as he was still not here, and the Muggle Studies Professor was apparently still in his room, so she couldn't say anything about him yet, either. She may be sixteen, but she hasn't been a child since that night.

Juna knew some of them didn't do it on purpose, but it did occasionally grate of her nerves, not that the Alloy Eye Alchemist showed it.

While she kept her right eye focused on Snape, her left, automail eye, was giving her a migraine due to the pouring rain outside. Her ports were all hurting, and she was trying to not massage the sore areas.

Minerva entered the Great Hall a few minutes later with a stool, a rugged old hat, and a small gaggle of tiny first years, whispering excitedly as they admired the charmed ceiling, and everything their young, innocent eyes caught. Juna hoped they'd keep that innocence for a long time. She didn't want them to make the same mistakes she and her brothers did.

The Deputy Headmistress lead the tiny children up down the center aisle of the Great Hall, and when she reached the front, right before the teachers, she placed the stool down, and the hat on top of the stool.

Then the hat began to sing.

Juna's eyes widened, and she watched in wonder as the hat sang out the characteristics of the Houses, and how it was there to sort them. She was half tempted to check for a blood seal, but then realized she was in a magic school, so she schooled her expression and observed, something she has been doing far too much for her liking.

Perhaps she could ask Minerva about the limits of magic; that and whatever she manages to come up with to ask, of course.

The Sorting followed, and the alchemist watched in fascination as each midget was called up one by one, the hat placed on their heads, and five seconds, give or take, later the student would be assigned to a table, with their new housemates welcoming them with cheers and open arms.

Once they were all sorted through, Dumbledore began his announcements.

"While I would love to have you all devouring another year's welcoming feast, I must first give out some announcements."

The old man smiled at the groans, "I would first like to inform you that our caretaker, Mr Filch, has asked me tell you the list of objects forbidden in the castle has been extended to include Fanged Frisbees, Screaming Yo-yos, and Ever Bashing Boomerangs. The list, now comprising of approximately four hundred thirty-seven items I believe, can be found posted on his office door if anyone wishes to check it."

Juna deadpanned, not believing for one second that the students would even think of checking the forbidden items. She personally didn't care.

"I would also like to remind a certain few that the Forbidden Forest is, in fact, forbidden for a reason." his eyes glanced at a trio at the Gryffindor table, along with a set of redhead twins at the same table, "And Hogsmeade village is out of bounds for students below third year."

She saw the younger students look a little sad at the last part, but Juna was more curious as to what was so special about this "Forbidden Forest".

"It also saddens me to announce that the annual, inter-house, Quidditch Cup won't be held this year."

Now that set an uproar through the students. Dumbledore had to wait for them to quiet down. Another question to research.

"That is because this year at Hogwarts-"

Dumbledore was once again interrupted when the door slammed open, and in came a man that, to Juna, looked like he was thrown into a meat grinder and was haphazardly put back together by a five year old. His face was more scar tissue than skin, she could barely tell where his mouth was, his nose had a chunk taken out of it, and one of his eyes was large, electric blue, and swiveled around crazily in its artificial socket. Besides that, he had a wooden peg-leg. She wondered if Magic users realized that there was much more advanced technology than wooden prosthetic limbs.

"May I welcome our new Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor, Professor Moody!"

There was only a few polite applause, and an awkward silence to go along with the over-dramatic entrance. Juna wondered what was up with the Moody guy, but she felt a distinct unease when he caught sight of her, particularly the exact places where her automail met flesh. How did he know? She'd have to be wary.

"Now, as I was saying, Hogwarts has been chosen to host a prestigious event this year. This year, Hogwarts has been chosen to host the Triwizard Tournament for the first time in nearly a century."

One of the twins cried out, "YOU'RE JOKING!"

"I am not joking Mr. Weasley, though now that you mention it, I heard a particularly funny one over the summer about how a troll, a hag, and a leprechaun all go into a bar..."

A distinct clearing of the throat came from the Transfiguration professor. Her stern gaze sending daggers into the old Headmaster's back.

"Ah," Dumbledore stutters, "But now isn't the time for that, no. Anyway, for those who are unaware, the Tri-Wizard Tournament was a prestigious event held every five years between the three largest magic schools in Europe, Hogwarts, Durmstrang, and Beauxbatons..."

Juna tuned out the lecture, she would look up more detailed information in the library later. She only caught that the new age limit caused an uproar, and the Tournament had been canceled originally because the death count had been rising. That caused her to be a bit disturbed, why the fuck was a _school_ _tournament_ killing students?

"On another note, I am proud to announce that Hogwarts will be reviving an old course that hasn't been taught for nearly fifty years now. May I welcome our new Professor of Alchemy, Professor Elric!"

She stood and gave a short bow of acknowledgement. There were much more applause for her, but there were mainly whispers of curiosity, she sat back down and heard someone call out, "How old is she? She doesn't look older than a fourth year."

Apparently that was a valid question, Dumbldore responded, "Professor Elric will give her age if she wishes to at a later time, but I will say that she is Hogwart's youngest professor to date, and is quite a prodigy in the field of Alchemy, so let us welcome her with open arms."

That last bit was probably partially due to politics, causing her problems would be causing Amestris problems, and that would not be good for the alliance that's currently still in the making.

"Sign up slips are by the door, and must be submitted to Professor McGonagall by tomorrow morning at breakfast. The elective is open to all students above third year. We also have a new Muggle Studies Professor joining us this year, as Professor Burbage has chosen to retire and live the rest of her peaceful life with her family, but he was not able to join us today due to certain circumstances, so he will be introduced tomorrow morning."

Some murmuring broke out between the students but Dumbledore silenced them with a raised hand, "Now, I wouldn't want to keep you from a fine feast, so all I have left to say is... Dig in!"

With that, the food appeared on the table, and Juna kept a poker face as she served herself some turkey, salad, and quiche. She loved quiche, and this one reminded her of Mom's so much that she had managed to fit three whole pieces of it before she realized what she was doing. She poured herself a cup of black tea and noticed Professor Snape was staring at her from the corner of his eye, "Yes?"

"I take it you like quiche?"

She nodded, somehow looking sheepish while keeping a stoic look on her face, "It's my favorite food, to be honest. Mom always made it twice a week when my brothers and I were little."

He raised an eyebrow, "You have siblings?"

"Yes. A younger, twin brother and another younger brother. Do you?"

"No."

They returned to their meals. Juna proudly put away two more servings of quiche, not feeling guilty since the plates replenished themselves when emptied, before the food disappeared and was replaced with desserts. She helped herself to a piece of cheesecake and downed another cup of tea. She and Snape occasionally conversed, mostly about civilian things that had nothing to do with school, like their general lives outside of school.

Snape had been surprised when she informed him she lived in the Muggle World, informing her he had grown up in the Muggle World before switching to the magical side of Britain upon graduation.

She neglected telling him she was in the military, as that was a bit too personal for the time being. The other professors just knew she was a State Alchemist, but they didn't know exactly what a State Alchemist was, just that they were acknowledged for their skills in Alchemy.

Dinner was finished without anymore disruptions, and the students were sent to bed, yawning and full.

It wasn't yet bedtime for the teachers, though. They had a teacher's meeting.

They headed towards the teacher's lounge and made themselves comfortable upon arrival. They were just waiting on the Muggle Studies Professor, who had informed Dumbledore that he would, in fact, be able to make it to the meeting.

Juna had taken out one of her English journals and was practicing speeding up her writing when a knock on the door was heard.

Dumbledore pleasantly called, "Enter."

The door opened, and in walked the final Professor. Juna was too focused on her notes and didn't pay attention to the startled gasp that left the new man's mouth. In fact, what brought her out of her thoughts wasn't the gasp, or even the stares of the other professors when they noticed recognition in the man's tired, hazel eyes.

What brought her out of her focused state was an all-too-familiar voice, a voice she never expected to hear again, "Juna?"

As if she'd been suddenly struck, Juna's head snapped up from her journal, her pen slipped from her hand and was sent flying across the room, and the journal tumbled to the floor, miraculously landing closed and upright. Now the professors were staring at her for the very unnatural show of reaction from her usually stoic form, but none of this phased her.

Juna was too busy staring in open shock at the one person she thought was dead. And there he was, in his tall, spectacle-clad glory, staring back at her with the exact same expression she had on her own face, "...Hughes?"

**Dun Dun DUUUUUUUUN! So, what do you guys think? Leave a review!**

**Just so you guys know, I write Fanfiction to improve my writing, and to help develop my characters. I like making OCs for fandoms and giving them a story based on the existing story line. I also write Fanfiction because it's fun and helps me relieve stress. I will take constructive criticism, but no flames, please. Thank you!**

**Have a great day, everyone!**

**AnimeLuver1492**


	2. Chapter 2

**Whelp! Here is my next chapter! It came out a bit slower than I thought it would, as I already had it about... half written by the time I posted Chapter one? Either way, I hope you enjoy it!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist or FMA: Brotherhood. Nuff said.**

**Chapter 2: The First Lesson or Alchemy is a Science**

The young Alchemist stared from her sitting position in the very plush armchair, stunned, at the man in front of her.

Maes Hughes stared back from his position, standing at the entrance to the room. His spectacled, hazel eyes focused in shock on the molten gold pool in her own eye socket.

Neither could believe their situation. Juna was stunned that Maes was alive in the first place, and Maes was surprised that Juna was teaching at a magic school, emphasis on _magic_.

"...How?" was the first word that left Juna's mouth as she kept her eye fixed on the sight in front of her.

Hughes looked... well... like a man who had escaped death by the skin of his teeth. He was standing a little awkwardly with the assistance of a pair of crutches, but she didn't see a cast, or him shifting weight off one leg, so it wasn't a leg problem. She could barely make out some bandages poking out from over the top of the hospital garb he was wearing. Apparently "his room" was actually translated as "his bed in the hospital wing" from what she could see. And overall, Hughes looked exhausted.

"Dumbledore found me. Apparently, he was taking a vacation and took some time to take a late night stroll to take in the night-life. If he'd found me a few minutes later I'd be a goner, but he brought me here, gave me a muggle-warding repellent charm and got me healed up; though, I wouldn't be able to tell you this without asking Dumbledore because I'd blacked out at that point. I've been comatose, just woke up about two weeks ago, and I've been recovering ever since."

"I see." That means Hughes was comatose for about a month, and two weeks later Dumbledore came to the military for with a request for an alliance. Either that was coincidence or planned. The edge of Juna's lips turned up slightly and her visible eye softened slightly, "Good to have you back, alive."

"Good to be alive." He grinned back. She saw a hint of relief on his face, though she couldn't understand why. Was it because he had a fellow soldier here? Because now he had hope to see his family again? Because he wasn't laying dead and bloody in a random phone booth?

"Could someone explain what's going on?" demanded a gruff, suspicious voice. The younger of the Amestrians turned and met the swiveling eye of Professor Moody. Maes didn't have to turn since he was already facing the man, but he directed his attention to the scarred man.

"What do you mean, Professor Moody?" Juna asked. Her head tilted curiously, "You will have to be more specific."

"Well," Snape drawled, "For one, I don't think anyone here can understand German."

"That wasn't German, boy." Moody growled, "The accent's the same, but the words aren't. What language was that?" he barked.

The duo exchange glances, realizing for the first time that in their shock they had naturally switched back to speaking their native tongue when they saw each other, "Amestrian." Juna responds.

Hughes piped up before the paranoid man could bark out anything else, "I don't think I've met all of you, yet."

His English was more heavily accented than Juna's but he seemed to be managing well enough with the language despite having less time to learn it than Juna had. It's not like he had much to do in the Hospital Wing, anyway. Juna, unfortunately from experience, knows there is very little to do in a hospital as a patient but lay in bed, bored to death, so she understood how it was possible. He continued, "I'm Maes Hughes, the new Muggle Studies Professor. A pleasure to meet you all."

Hughes gave his signature smile and lifted one hand in acknowledgment as high as he dared before quickly returning it to the crutches. He seemed a little unsteady on his feet, and Juna, noticing this, walked over and helped him to a nearby seat. They exchanged a significant look that practically screamed, "We'll catch up later."

He gave her a nod of thanks when he was situated.

Dumbledore smiled, eyes twinkly as ever, "Now that we are all present, I believe it is time for the meeting to begin. Shall we?"

They talked about the usual things teachers discussed: their class syllabus and if there were any students to keep an eye on, good or bad, that sort of stuff. The newer teachers also received some advice from the more experienced teachers, too.

Snape and McGonagall, despite their rather obvious distaste for each other, seemed able to agree on two, simple things, "Keep an eye on the Weasley twins. They're huge pranksters." and "Harry Potter and his friends Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley seemed to, somehow, get themselves into trouble annually, intentionally or not."

Flitwick had also mentioned Granger but mentioned that she was the top of her year three years in a row, and was very bright for her age. He was quite impressed with the Weasley Twins and their pranks as they were usually splendid works of magic, even if he wished they'd put in more effort in their classes.

There wasn't much beyond that, so the teachers were dismissed rather quickly.

But before they left, Moody said something that caught the other teachers off guard, "Nice eye, Elric."

Juna stiffened. She was certain he wasn't talking about her visible eye, not that most of the other teachers realized this as her visible eye was literally the color of molten gold, but she kept her composure and responded, "Thank you, Professor Moody. Yours is also quite... interesting."

She left together with Hughes after that little encounter, Moody's electric-blue swivel eye followed her until the door closed.

She accompanied him to his classroom. It was, thankfully, on the same floor as the teacher's lounge so there was no need to help him down the hazardous moving staircases. Apparently, he'd just been released from the Hospital Wing that day, so he was finally able to check his office out today for the first time ever.

Juna learned that Hughes wasn't using a textbook for the class, but there were a bunch of boxes in his classroom full of random gadgets. Since he couldn't move them around while on crutches, she helped move them where he wanted them to be.

At the front of the classroom, there was a long wall of shelves, and she helped Hughes sort through the boxes and place the items on the shelves in an organized, methodical system.

It took them a few hours since Juna needed to constantly move a chair around to put things on higher shelves, curse her lack of height, and Hughes had very limited movement at the moment, so even if he could lift the heavier objects, he couldn't move them very far.

However, these few hours had let Juna catch up with the man.

"They promoted you to Brigadier General." she commented as she placed a radio on the shelf directly between a small, old-fashioned, Telly, and a Telephone, "Also, Mustang didn't take your supposed death well. I think that's the first time I saw him cry. "It's a horrible day for rain," he said, but the sky was clear and sunny. It certainly didn't fit the mood."

Hughes was silent for a moment as he dug through Muggle school supplies like pencils, paper, and pens. Then, "I see. How is he? How are Gracia and Elicia?"

"Mustang is burying himself in his work, for once. Gracia is trying to keep Elicia occupied, and I have yet to see that woman since the funeral without puffy eyes. The poor kid, too. She keeps having nightmares. I've crashed at your place a few times, and she sometimes would sneak into the guest room, waking me up, telling me she dreamed about the soldiers "pouring dirt on daddy". I never told her they buried an empty coffin. I just couldn't tell her that her daddy wasn't really there. Gracia knows, though. I told her I would inform her if they found a body. Guess I stumbled upon more than just a body, eh?"

Juna had a wry smile on her face at the last sentence. The whole thing wasn't pleasant to talk about. Hopefully, the dry humor could lighten the load. She hoped it did, at least. She had no clue how to talk to people.

She took a deep breath to compose herself and looked to her fellow soldier. He kneeled in place, frozen. His head was down, there were tears streaming down his face, falling onto his weakened legs

"I'm sorry," he whispered. It was likely he was not saying it to her, though, but to his wife and daughter who he was unable to return to at the moment.

Juna didn't know much about comforting people. She could barely do so to her own brothers, and Ed made it apparent by describing her as, she quotes, "that one completely socially awkward person at a party that tries to become one with the wall."

If it wasn't so accurate, she probably would have felt indignant. She had once spent hours shopping for a dress that matched the ballroom walls in color in an attempt to be less noticeable during a required social event the stupid Colonel had made her go to. Ed had spent the next hour and a half laughing at the lengths his sister would go to prevent social interaction. After all, if his sister would willingly go out to buy new clothes, either she was desperate, or the world was ending.

She had not been amused.

Beyond her utter lack of social skills, Juna was also just too blunt to be able to provide any form of comfort. However, Hughes needed someone, and she was the only one here that he really _knew_, so she walked over and placed a hand on his shoulder, feeling a little weird about doing something so out of character.

She took a breath, here goes nothing, "They'll be glad to know you're alive."

His head snapped up in shock, not realizing she had moved, "What?"

"They'll be glad to know you're alive." Juna repeated a little more clearly, "Though when you tell them is your choice."

He stared at her for a moment, "... I can't tell them right now."

She tilted her head, motioning for him to continue. It wasn't like Hughes to deny seeing his family.

"I will recover first." he said resolutely, "I don't want them to worry more than they probably already are. I can't stand the idea of them crying tears of pain if they see me like this."

She understood where he was coming from. He didn't want to appear weak or hurt, especially to Elicia, who, as a child, saw her parents as people who could do anything. He didn't want those he loved to worry more by seeing him injured, even if it took time.

Juna nods in resignation, "If that is your choice, I will respect it. When will you be fully recovered?"

Hughes removed his glasses to wipe his eyes, "I'll be able to walk without assistance in a few weeks. After that, I'll be working on getting my strength back. So far I can only lift small or light objects. Being comatose leaves you pretty weakened. Madame Pomfrey is helping me with Physical Therapy. Apparently, she'd studied "Muggle Medicine" when she was younger, so when I woke up she has been helping me get back on my feet, both figuratively and literally. She was actually the one who recommended I take the position of Muggle Studies Professor after the old Professor had retired since I told her I grew up in the "Muggle World" as they call it." Hughes smiled in amusement at the term, "I got lucky in a way. They don't know how to remove bullets, so thankfully the bullet went all the way through."

"I wouldn't say "thankfully"." Juna murmured, "Double the holes means double the blood loss."

"That's true... Hey, could you help me with this box?"

The two continued the unpacking in silence, though Juna would often notice Hughes struggling, his face screwed into a mix of frustration and determination. She would help him, not saying a word to the man's new-found vulnerability. The only other thing she asked was, "Where'd you get the new clothes?"

"Dumbledore took me to the Muggle World to do some shopping after converting my Cenz to Pounds, the Muggle Currency in the UK."

"I see. Could I see your class schedule? I want to compare."

She'd noted her schedule and Hughes didn't share any times in common, so she offered to help him with getting things until he was fit enough to do it himself. He'd agreed, but it was obvious it was because he'd rather share his moment of weakness with a friend than with a stranger.

"Will you be down at breakfast tomorrow?" she asked. Hogwarts was a pain to get around without crutches, she just hoped one of the extensive secret passageways would be of use to the man.

"Madame Pomfrey said she'll help me down the stairs if needed. I hope I can, the Hospital Wing was boring~!"

Juna gave one of her rare smiles, "That's good to know." she removed a small item from her coat pocket and tossed it to Hughes. He caught it on instinct and found himself staring at the booklet of photos of his wife and daughter he had always gone around showing anyone who he could catch, usually Mustang or the Elrics.

He had to fight back the second round of tears, taking a deep breath to compose himself, "I've been wondering where this was."

"It was found where your body was supposed to be." Juna explained, "It must have fallen out of your pockets and Dumbledore never noticed. Gracia told me to keep it for the time being. It brings her too much pain right now."

Hughes grimaced. Juna does so inwardly, as well. She's trying to cheer him up! Happy thoughts!

She continues, "Elica and I sometimes look through it when she asks. She's a sweet kid, Hughes. A little angel like you said... Fifty-two times a day."

The Alchemist notices the twitch of the man's lips. That was an improvement.

She looked to the clocktower that was easily seen outside the window. It was getting late, "I should be returning to my room, good night Hughes." Juna said, deciding she was nowhere near socially adept enough to comfort him beyond this point. She turned, waving to him over her shoulder as she walked out the door.

"Good night." came the soft mutter from the injured man. A slight pause was the only sign that Juna heard and acknowledged the words, but it was enough. Juna left for her rooms, a soft clanking sound the only noise in the hall other than the snoring portraits.

Hughes was now completely alone in his new classroom. For a while he just sat in the same place, not moving, just staring into the dark shadows made by the night.

The room was now full of trinkets on the shelves, and desks, and chairs, and chalk, but no life. The air was heavy with silence and stillness. The man stood with the help of his crutches, tired from their exercises and walking around, and hobbled towards the side door that leads to his office and living quarters.

His rooms were easy to access, so he thankfully didn't need assistance getting to them, but the feeling of silence and loneliness permeated the air around him, familiar but oh so terrifying, and nobody was around to hear as he clutched the pictures to his chest and let out a sob of grief, and a whispered, "Gracia... Elicia... Wait for me... Just remember... Papa loves you..." coming from the man who wanted nothing more than to see his loved ones again.

...

The next day came quickly, striking the young students with blinding rays of light in their eyes and causing groans and grumbles of annoyance all around as the kids rolled out of bed and began their morning routines preparing for the first day of classes.

One of the said kids was Harry Potter, fourteen years of age, Boy-Who-Lived, fourth year at Hogwarts, and average in nearly every way besides his scar, his horrendous luck, and tragic backstory worthy of an emo protagonist.

He was also among the group that signed up for the new Alchemy class. There were surprisingly few that did, at least in his House. It was just him, Hermione, Neville, to the surprise of many, Fred, George, Angelina, two others he never got acquainted with, and the Creevys for Gryffindor. Ron had opted out since Divination was known as the easy O for a reason, something Hermione lectured him for constantly.

Due to the fact the class was an elective with not a very large number of participants, all the Houses were grouped together at the same time for two class periods a week, except for the sixth and seventh years who had a double period once a week instead, according to the twins.

Also, true to Dumbledore's words yesterday, the new Muggle Studies Professor was at the table that morning.

Professor Hughes was a tall, dark-haired man with hazel eyes behind rectangular glasses. He wore a white dress shirt and black pants and combat boots. Had Harry run into him in the halls, he would have thought he was a misplaced muggle. The only really remarkable thing about the man was the crutches leaning against the table beside him and the small booklet in his hand that he was showing to Professor Elric, effectively trapping her with an arm around her shoulder.

That was another thing. He seemed to be getting along with Professor Elric very well. They were talking rather animatedly if his exaggerated hand gestures and her slightly exasperated-yet-fond expression were anything to go by. That look was one Hermione constantly seemed to aim in his and Ron's direction, so those two were definitely close.

Hermione was the only one of them who was taking Muggle Studies, for reasons nobody knew since she herself was muggle born. She had it first thing in the morning with the Slytherins and would join her friends again for Alchemy two periods later, as she had dropped Care of Magical Creatures for Muggle Studies, and had Runes during what would normally be her free period.

Harry had dropped Divination for Alchemy; he preferred to keep the death visions to a minimum, but he continued taking Care, if only for Hagrid.

Ron, meanwhile, had not signed up for Alchemy, something that upset both of his friends, but they didn't comment any further. He wouldn't have heard with his head so far into his food.

"So, what do you think of the new Professor?" Hermione asked.

Harry examined the man, he was chuckling at something Professor Elric had said, and he had yet to put the booklet down, "He seems nice, and he appears very... genuine?" He wasn't sure how to describe it.

The girl looked the man up and down, "You could say that. He certainly looks the part of someone teaching about muggles. And he also seems genuinely kind unlike... that one professor from our second year..."

Harry, if only to save her dignity, refrained from commenting that she had been absolutely infatuated with "that one professor from their second year". Instead, he looked back up to the Head Table, "He also seems to be getting along with Professor Elric."

"Yes, you're right, Harry." Hermione nodded, "Getting along a little too well if you ask me. It's like they knew each other beforehand."

"That's hardly suspicious, 'Mione." Harry commented, "It's not impossible for two teachers that know each other to be teaching at the same school."

"I know, but it's still not very likely. I can't help but wonder where they know each other from. They look like complete opposites."

"And you and Ron aren't?"

He got a slap on the arm for that comment.

They didn't have a chance to continue the conversation, though; they had to get to class, so Harry went off to Care with Ron, and Hermione headed to Muggle Studies.

She walked in, a little unsure what to expect from the new teacher. The professors all had their own systems of organization and teaching, and she was undoubtedly a little curious about how the cheery man would work out.

Professor Hughes was sitting at his desk, watching the door, with, to Hermione's surprise, Professor Elric leaning on the wall next to him doing the same thing.

Hermione wasn't sure why the Alchemy Professor was here, as her classroom, while on the same floor, was on the other side of the school.

The two were both quick to fix their eyes, and eye, on her when she arrived. She was the first to enter, so she looked for a place she wanted to sit.

"Take a card off my desk, then sit down in the seat that has the same card on it. Just take the top one, please." Professor Hughes said with a smile, gesturing to a stack of cards right beside him.

She walked up a little nervously, hoping she got a good seat and picked the number 3. She looked at the cards on the desk and noticed the numbers seemed shuffled.

She ended up in a seat in the second row, right next to a corkboard pinned full of muggle-style photographs and newspaper clippings from the last century or so.

Soon, the other students also began filing in, and Professor Hughes gave them the same instructions. Hermione had nearly fallen out of her chair when she noticed Draco Malfoy walk in. Since when did he take an interest in Muggle Studies? Weird.

It was a coincidence that landed them next to each other, and they spent the rest of the time until the bell rang staring at each other in shock and... was that resignation on Malfoy's face? She was sure it should have been disgust considering what he thought of Muggleborns.

When the bell finally rang and the last student to arrive took the last card off the desk, the Professor stood from his desk with the help of his crutches and walked to the front of the room with Professor Elric following behind him, a clipboard and pen in hand. Hermione was surprised to see her using a pen at first, then realized this was Muggle Studies, so acting like muggles would help the students learn.

"Good morning, class!" Professor Hughes exclaimed, giving a friendly smile and a quick wave, "My name is Maes Hughes, you will refer to me as Professor Hughes while in this class. To my left is Juna Elric, Professor Elric for anyone taking Alchemy. She will be my assistant until I am able to walk without these." He used his head to gesture to the crutches, "So you will be seeing a lot of her for the next few weeks at least."

Professor Elric, lifted a hand in acknowledgment, staring at the class with her seemingly signature bland look.

"Now, these seats are the seats you will have until the winter holidays. You will get new seats afterward, but I'd recommend getting to know your seatmates since you two will be doing a lot of group projects together."

People who ended up with someone they didn't like groaned and Hermione heaved a resigned sigh. Malfoy was surprisingly silent but looked as resigned as she did.

"I will let you know that in life, you will have to work with people you don't particularly like. It will happen no matter where you live after school or what occupation you choose. There will be people you want to strangle, but you can't because that would land you a sentence in prison."

Some students chuckled nervously.

"However, since you are in a learning facility, we'll make this a learning experience." Hughes nodded to his fellow coworker, and she turned the chalkboard around to expose some prewritten, semi-neat handwriting.

_**PARTNERSHIP TALLY SYSTEM**_

_**1st- 50 pt**_

_**2nd- 40 pt**_

_**3rd- 30 pt**_

_**4th- 20 pt**_

_**5th- 10 pt**_

_**6th and lower- 1 pt**_

_**NOTICE- IF YOU DON'T HAVE ANY TALLIES WHEN POINTS ARE GIVEN, THEN NO POINTS WILL BE GIVEN! TIEBREAKS IN THE TOP FIVE WILL BE DECIDED BY THE PROFESSOR!**_

"It's a rather simple system." Hughes explained, "If I or Professor Elric see you and your partner cooperating when told to, you get a tally. If you are not, you don't get a tally, and if you are trying to kill each other, you lose a tally. As you can probably guess I'm giving a lot of leeway between losing and not getting a tally, so I sincerely hope nobody loses one." his friendly gaze turns stern for a moment, "There will be a ranking done right before Christmas Break, and another done before the end of the year, and you can see how many points you'll earn. They are the only House Points I will give out, so work hard. 1st place will get fifty points each and so on as seen on the board. Am I clear?"

Everyone nodded, others muttered, some more reluctantly than others, Fay Dunbar and Theodore Nott, who ended up next to each other, were currently giving each other side glares, but they nodded, too.

"Alright, now that that's settled, would you mind getting the papers, Juna, while I do a roll call?"

She took some packets off his desk and began to hand them out face down while Professor Hughes sat down in his chair, picked up the list of students, and began to call out names, the person raised their hands, and he gave them a single look of acknowledgment before checking them off with a smile.

"What you have in front of you is a pop quiz." he explained once roll call was finished, "It's a series of pictures. You have to identify what the object is, and what is its purpose. This is not for a grade, consider it a preview of what we will learn in the unit. If you don't know something, leave it blank. This will show me what you already know so I can teach without boring you. You will get one of these weekly, and they will be taken individually, so no talking. You have until the end of class. If you finish early, you may work on the homework, one paragraph explaining the similarities and differences between parchment and paper, and another paragraph explaining the same thing about quills and pens. Begin."

The students flipped their quizzes over and started looking through the horrid thing, Hermione noted the two professors were keeping a close eye on them. It was likely to make sure nobody cheated.

She looked at the paper and saw the first two pictures were a pencil, a pen, and an eraser. She filled those in with ease, then moved on to the radio, telly, computer, and telephone.

She breezed through the quiz easily, and when she finished, she placed her quill down and stood. She saw Professor Elric gesture towards the desk, "On the desk please, Miss Granger, if you are finished."

Some students looked up at the sound of an unfamiliar voice. They had yet to hear Professor Elric speak until that point, so they were caught off guard. Her voice was not very high pitched. In fact, it was rather neutral, and she spoke in a very blunt and stern tone that complimented the minor, German-like accent in her voice.

She pointed a blank stare to the people that looked up, "Continue working. I am not your pop quiz."

They hurriedly look back to their parchment. Her stare was unnerving.

Hermione returned to her seat after placing the quiz on the desk as instructed. She noted that Malfoy was about two thirds through the quiz when the second person finished writing. It was the last of the three Slytherin students in the class: Blaise Zabini. She had worked with him on some projects in Ancient Runes when they were partnered. He was civil enough, and he was smart. She actually studied with him a few times when exam season came around, but they never really interacted beyond that.

After Blaise was Hannah Abbot, then Malfoy, to Hermione's surprise, and then a Ravenclaw named Terry Boot.

One by one the quizzes were turned in, and once the final quiz fell onto the desk, Professor Hughes gave them a friendly smile, "Now that all the quizzes are in, you are expected to be working on the homework assignment. This will happen at the end of every class period if time permits. You all need to participate and work hard, though, or these privileges will go away. I am likely one of the few Professors that you ever came across that will allow you to work on your homework in class, but you need to use this time wisely."

He leans forward and pierces the class with a serious stare, "You have this time to come see me if you have any questions. Professor Elric is also valid for answering any questions you have on the subject if I'm already occupied. You can work with your classmates, as well, but no plagiarizing, or your grade goes to an automatic T. Got it?"

There was a chorus of, "Yes Professor" from the class, and the students set to work.

Hermione was quick to prepare a roll of parchment and began to write. _Paper and Parchment, while similar in the fact they are thin, flat sheets that can be written and drawn on using writing utensils, are actually quite different. Paper is much thinner and more flimsy, and it is made from trees. Meanwhile, parchment is much thicker and is made from the skin of animals like calves, goats, and sheep..._

She was quick to finish the first paragraph and started the second paragraph. She was halfway through when she heard a voice.

"Granger."

Hermione started, almost knocking over her ink, and turned to see Malfoy looking at her. It took her a moment to process the fact he called her "Granger" instead of "Mudblood" before she realized she probably was appearing rude by not responding. "Yes, Malfoy?" she asked a little warily.

The Malfoy heir was looking a little uncomfortable, but it was quickly replaced with a blank expression, "Could you proofread my first paragraph?"

That caused her to stare for a moment. She wondered for a moment if those sci-fi novels she read as a child were real and Malfoy was abducted by aliens, who left behind a clone to infiltrate the school. Then, she realized that was highly unlikely and nodded, still a little wary at the odd, but not unpleasant, change in behavior.

She carefully took the piece of parchment and skimmed through the paragraph. It was actually well written if a little on the short side. She was surprised how much he knew, actually, "It looks good, Malfoy; it's very to-the-point. Though, you misspelled "pencil" a few times. There's only supposed to be one "L" at the end."

Hermione handed the sheet back to the platinum blond, who simply nodded, and fixed his spelling errors before moving on to the next paragraph.

She returned to her own work, now in a slight state of detachedness. That was a very strange interaction.

Just as she punctuated her final sentence, the bell rang. She packed her things up and headed to her next class, waving her homework around slightly in order to let it dry completely.

She now had Runes, and she and Zabini walked there together since they were heading in the same direction anyway.

They entered and split in silence, and prepared for the challenging hour of note-taking that always came with not taking.

Poor Ron and Harry were left to deal with the Blast-Ended Skrewts first thing in the morning while Hermione just wrote down words on parchment, and the boys sincerely hoped they did not have to repeat this sort of thing next year. They would be traumatized.

Anyway, the next class passed rather quickly, with nothing eventful to mention beyond Harry losing to Ron for the nth time in Wizards Chess during their free period.

Anyway, it was now their third class of the day: Alchemy for Harry and Hermione, and Divination for Ron. Harry wished his friend luck before parting ways to get to class on time. He wondered how this class would go.

He met up with Hermione in front of the classroom. "Hey, 'Mione." he smiled.

"Hello, Harry!" she responded. Harry wondered why she looked contemplative but chose to stay quiet for the moment as they walked into the classroom together.

They weren't the first here, but they were far from the last, so there were still plenty of seats open for choosing. Hermione quickly grabbed Harry's hand and dragged him to a desk in the third row with a nice view of the front of the class.

Professor Elric was already in the front of the room, leaning against her desk casually while fixing the students with a blank, even stare that already had Neville shifting nervously in his seat in the fourth row.

The bell finally rang a few minutes later, and Professor Elric pushed off her desk into a straighter standing position. Not that it did much, as she was very short, but it's the thought that counted.

"I will take roll call now, class. Please state your presence when your name is heard."

She began to call out names in the same monotone Hermione remembered her using back in Muggle Studies, and the student called would obediently raise their name and say, "Here!"

It was unnerving. Nobody was doing anything except for watching the teacher with rapt attention. It was not something Hermione was used to. Usually, there would be one or two people at least fidgeting with a quill. Hermione vaguely wondered how this was possible, but she was also busy paying attention to the teacher.

Finally, roll call was done, and Professor Elric placed the list carefully on the desk, her eyes never straying from the students, "I suppose some introductions are in order. I am Juna Elric, but you will refer to me as Professor Elric unless otherwise instructed. If you had Muggle Studies this morning, I have already met you briefly, if you didn't, It's a pleasure to meet you."

She clapped. It was a sudden, loud, sharp sound that made the students jump in their seats, "Now, onto the topic we came here for, Alchemy. On my desk, there is a pile of books. Please take one and put your name on it. It will be your textbook for the year. I warn you, if you lose this one, you are out of luck, because I personally translated these books from my native tongue and had them copied into just enough for all the signed up students to each get one. I do not have any extras, so please take good care of these books. Come up and pick them up, then return to your seats and open the cover only."

Everyone was quick to do as instructed. Hermione was still trying to place what had everyone straightening their spines and doing as instructed as she opened the cover to find something she never expected to see in the magical world.

It was the Periodic Table of Elements, an essential tool of chemistry. Harry right next to her also raised an eyebrow when he recognized it. He recognized it from having to do Dudley's homework. Another time their science teacher made a game of how far one memorized the elements, and the winner got a prize. Harry only could list as far as Calcium with certainty, though.

There were more gasps of recognition from the muggleborns and muggle-raised.

Professor Elric scanned the crowd, "Some of you know what you are looking at, or at least recognize it. That's good. For those that remain oblivious, this is the Periodic Table of Elements, an essential tool in Chemistry, a muggle science. It is also essential knowledge in the art of Alchemy. Chemistry and Alchemy are very closely related, and knowing Chemistry will improve your understanding of Alchemy. Thus, memorizing the Periodic Table will not only make your life easier, but it will also improve your chances of a successful transmutation. I recommend you do so. There will be a test on it next week."

That caused a chorus of groans, but the Professor continued, "Now, can anybody tell me what Alchemy is?"

Her eyes once again scanned the crowd. Three hands raised up, "Miss Granger."

"Alchemy is considered lost magic that focused on turning lead into gold. One of its greatest practitioners was Nicholas Flamel, the only known maker of the Philosophers Stone, known to many Witches and Wizards as the Sorcerer's Stone."

Professor Elric frowned, "A fascinating answer. Wrong. Alchemy is not magic, it's a science, and while turning lead into gold is possible, it is also illegal as doing so would ruin the economy. Nicholas Flamel did make the Philosopher's Stone, but that is also a rather sick creation because of exactly how the stone works. That will be explained at a later date."

The blonde woman was pacing now in a slow, controlled stride with her hands clasped behind her back. When she began her lecture, she seemed a bit more... passionate? eager to talk? either way, she became slightly different when she began talking about her craft, "Alchemy is the science of deconstructing and reconstructing matter." she rights that on the board as she speaks, "Alchemists do that through transmutation." She rights that word under the definition, "Transmutation is the act of changing one thing to another, and it is done through three steps."

She lists the numbers underneath "Transmutation", and turns back to the students. She scans the crowd with her unnerving golden eye, "Considering what you have already learned, can any of you guess what they are?"

There was silence, some were tense under her gaze.

"Each person gets to guess at one of the steps, if you are correct you get points. Mr. Malfoy, would you kindly start? We will continue from there."

Hermione and Harry started. When did Malfoy get here? He was in the far corner of the fourth row. Five seats down from Neville, who was a bit on the right.

"Reconstruction?" the blond boy responded.

"Are you asking me or telling me, Mr. Malfoy?"

The boy flushed slightly, "... Telling."

"You are correct. Five points to Slytherin." Professor Elric said as she wrote down "Reconstruction" in the third slot.

The guesses continued. The third person, a Ravenclaw, guessed "Deconstruction", and Ravenclaw got five points. Neville was shaking and stuttering, and got the final term wrong, but the Professor mentioned he was on the right track, but too far in the process when he said, "Getting materials".

People guessed and guessed, but they couldn't figure out what it was. Some just gave up and passed. Harry was next, and Hermione after him. He knew Hermione probably knew the answer, but he also had a guess.

The Professor mentioned chemistry earlier, and while Harry was no chemist, he knew that chemistry was the science of understanding matter.

It was the best guess he had, "Umm... Knowing what the material is made of..."

Professor Elric had her gaze directly on him, "That was rather hesitant. Are you using that as your final guess?"

Harry nodded.

The Professor, for the first time in around fifteen guesses, turned to the board, "Five points for Gryffindor. That was the definition." she said as she wrote down "Understanding".

There was a mutter from a Ravenclaw girl that sounded something like, "How the hell did _Potter_ get that?"

Professor Elric heard it though, "Mr. Potter. Would you like to explain your reasoning to the class?"

Harry flushed at the sudden attention, "Um... Well, Professor, you mentioned Chemistry was an important part of Alchemy earlier, so I thought that since Chemistry is the science of understanding matter, umm... it made me think knowing what the matter is would be important to be able to take it apart and put it together again..."

The professor gives a nod of approval, "That is sound reasoning, Mr. Potter. You are correct."

She starts to pace again, "Alchemy is Chemistry taken to the next level. If you don't learn Chemistry, then you are going to have a hard time in this class. We will be taking the first two months to get a good grasp on Chemistry, then I will begin getting into the more Alchemical part of the class. However, since two months is not a lot of time to learn an entire branch of science, I will be holding study sessions on the weekends in my room for any who have questions. The times can be found on the classroom door."

She then erased the board, confident everyone had gotten the notes down by then. She proceeded right into Chemistry, explaining important terminology they would be learning and the difference between covalent and ionic bonds, along with some examples of each.

"You see, ions are atoms that have either gained or lost an electron, a negatively charged particle. If the atom loses an electron, it becomes positive, so it becomes a cation. Gaining an electron makes a negatively charged ion or an anion. These ions bond to each other to form an ionic compound. One example of an ionic compound would be table salt, sodium chloride. Sodium, as a metal, is very prone to losing electrons, so it becomes the cation. Chlorine is very good at gaining electrons, so it is the anion. together they form sodium chloride, which flavors just about any dish you can think of. Yes, Miss Patil?"

"What dish can you think of that doesn't have salt?"

"A fruit salad. Do you have a relevant question?"

"No."

"Very well. As I was saying..."

By the end of the class period, the students were rubbing their sore wrists and groaning at the fact they'd have to memorize that entire table of information in a week. Seems this professor wasn't going to let them get away with not studying.

Hermione was still looking contemplative when she left the class.

"What's on your mind, 'Mione?" Harry asked.

"There was something about Professor Elric that seems... off? It's not in a bad way. I just can't _place_ it. I didn't notice it earlier, but I had a similar feeling in Professor Hughes's class, just to a more minor degree. Is it something in their way of speech? Is it their mannerisms? I just am not sure, and it's bugging me!"

The Boy-Who-Lived looked at his friend a little uncomfortable, "Umm... I'm sure you'll figure it out eventually... anyway, did you see the Professor's coat?"

Indeed, when Professor Elric had turned around to write on the board, she gave the class the view of a symbol carefully embroidered on the upper back of the trench coat in inky black. It was a winged serpent wrapped around a cross with a crown on top.

"Yes." Hermione nodded, "The symbol looks familiar. I'll look it up in the library later."

Harry sighed. Of course, she would. He just hoped he wasn't dragged along for once.

"So..." Hughes began as he leaned back in his chair, "How'd your first class of the day go?"

"Uneventful," Juna responded. She had claimed a corner of the desk and sat on it, letting her feet wrap around the table leg to keep her steady. "There were definitely kids with potential. I predict thirty percent of the students will drop out by the end of the week. They don't teach science or maths here, so they have to learn a complex science like chemistry in two to three months depending on how fast we go."

Huges winced, "Ouch. Sounds painful. I wouldn't want to be in your shoes."

"The kids will likely hate me for the first few weeks." she commented airily as if she was mentioning the weather, "However, those that stick to it will get results, though, and that's what matters."

"True to that." Hughes smiled, "Hey, Juna. When was the last time you visited them?"

Juna raises an eyebrow, "A day before I left for here. I wanted to make sure they were alright before I left."

The man barked out a laugh, "You're practically adopted already."

Her head tilts in confusion and he elaborates, "You stay at our place, you watch Elicia when we ask, you help Gracia out, and you never fail to visit to check on them. I might as well call you my kid and get it over with. Your brothers, too."

Juna stares. She's not quite sure what to think of that, "I suppose I have developed a familial attachment to you guys. I won't be calling you "dad" anytime soon, though."

"It was just a thought."

"I see."

They spend the next few minutes just talking and mentioning some highlights of their day so far, waiting for Hughes's next class.

It was pleasant, Juna thought, like talking to her dad about her day, her worries, and general things. Hughes was right, she was basically family now.

She could get used to it.

**And that's a wrap! I had so much trouble writing interactive dialogue in this chapter and I have no clue why! I tried to make Juna seem a little blunt and less socially inclined, but I might have just made her seem robotic. Whoops. **

**Anyway, I hope you enjoyed the chapter! Please tell me what you think in the reviews! Feel free to add constructive criticism, and I'll see what I can do.**

**Have a great day, everyone!**


	3. Chapter 3

**I'm back, and very sorry about the long wait. I hope those that like the story continue to enjoy it, and I hope if you have suggestions or constructive criticism that you leave a comment! If you notice any spelling or grammar mistakes I didn't catch, then please mention them so I can fix it. **

**THIS IS IMPORTANT! I left explanations at the bottom for some of the facts not decently explained in the story itself (as the full explanation wouldn't fit into the flow of the story) in case someone hasn't taken the class yet and is confused.**

**I hope you enjoy the chapter!**

**Disclaimer: No. I don't own HP, FMA (original or Brotherhood/manga). Whatever gave you that idea?**

**Chapter 3: Talk of the School or What is it With This Year and Tough Teachers?**

The week passed by way too quickly in the opinion of Harry and every other student around him.

This was particularly true for anyone in Alchemy, for everyone in Professor Elric's classes was panicking for the quiz that would happen in their class. The twins, usually not very vigilant about their schoolwork, preferring to plan their pranks and only pay attention if the lesson will be helpful to them, were running around like chickens with their heads cut off in the common room sounding like Hermione as they rattled off the names of the elements at rapid fire speeds in scary unison.

As the Fourth years were the first class to have the quiz, they were particularly on edge.

Which meant Hermione was even worse than usual! She looked like the twins dialed up to eleven!

Throughout the week, Professor Elric would always remind the students at the beginning of class about their quiz to make sure nobody forgot until the last minute. The ones that only had the class as a double period were offered the chance to come in after classes on Friday for quick tutoring sessions as well as the weekend study hall that everyone was allowed into. The Table was also on clear display hanging off the front of her desk if someone wanted to copy it down. Then she would spend the rest of class cramming as much basic chemistry as she could in the time span she had. Even then, the amount of homework was great.

Good thing the class was only twice a week, once if the students had a double period, so they had time to go with the piles.

Not that the students knew, but Juna had been right in her estimates. By the end of the week, roughly thirty percent of the class had dropped out upon realizing just how hard the course was, and a pouting Hughes had lost a few Galleons to the inwardly-smug, golden-haired, half-metal alchemist when he saw the statistics.

Harry, himself, had only stayed in the class out of sheer force of will. He had promised Hermione earlier back on the train that he would try to put more effort into his classes - including Potions, unfortunately- so he refused to quit; if only so he wouldn't look like he was admitting defeat.

It was a painful mix of pride and stubbornness, but if it got him trying, Hermione wasn't going to complain. She would in the future still have to get him to sleep at reasonable times on the weekend, lecturing him about how keeping a consistent sleeping schedule was better for ones health.

After the third day of staying up late from old-habits-die-hard-procrastination, he had taken to joining her in the library after dinner when there were no classes to do homework with her. She had been a great help in his quest to learn the rest of the Periodic Table and had kindly taught him and any who were interested the song to help him out with the order.

She had even managed to help him start the year off in Potions with the bare minimum for an "Exceeds Expectations"... somehow. Snape rarely sent biting remarks in his direction, now. He just sneered and moved on, grumbling. He would take that as an improvement for now. Now if only he could figure out why Snape hated him in the first place. He hadn't exactly done anything he could think of to offend the man.

Harry also wasn't utterly flunking History of Magic, anymore, and Hermione had worn a done expression as she whacked him on the head with their textbook when he realized the book didn't just cover Goblin Wars. He never really read the book, to be honest, and had been caught off guard when he learned the Goblin Wars were only covered in three of the first ten chapters.

The book had thirty-five chapters in total, not that Harry particularly cared about that information.

She then informed him that Goblin Wars had been Mr. Binn's specialty when he was alive, which was why he always talked about them, and then she proceeded to quote where she found the information in _Notable Wizard Historians of the Last Half Century_. She found it in chapter seventy-five on page four hundred fifty-three in paragraph four, apparently.

Harry didn't want to know how she knew the exact location, but Professor Elric was also able to do the same thing when some students, mostly Ravenclaws, asked for other references; a photographic memory perhaps?

Apparently, there _were_ books on science in the Hogwarts library. They were just so few and so well hidden that people rarely noticed them, and that had Harry wondering how Professor Elric found them when everyone else in all their years of Hogwarts seemingly never noticed them. It probably was just lack of interest from the Wizard side, but even then, Madame Pince had to double check that they did actually have the books Professor Elric cited when the blonde professor claimed that they were there, and she was the _librarian_; she knew the library like the back of her hand!

Neville had recently joined them in the library, too, and had his grade and confidence in Potions improving like Harry's with Hermione's advice; he was at a solid "Acceptable", now, and improving every day. She'd taught the nervous boy some breathing exercises that managed to help him calm himself enough to at least catch his mistakes before they were made most of the time.

They became a kind-of study group with the Weasley twins, Cedric Diggory, Cho Change, Susan Bones, Hannah Abbot, the Patils, and (surprisingly) Theodore Nott and Blaise Zabini, who dragged a reluctant Malfoy along who, to Harry's surprise, acted civilly during the time period.

The Boy-Who-Somehow-Lived sent Hermione a questioning look at this, and she simply responded with, "I have no clue, either, Harry. He's like that in Muggle Studies as well."

Harry was surprised Malfoy was even _in_ Muggle Studies. Why would Pureblood Supremacist Draco-McFucking-_MALFOY_ be taking a class about _muggles_? What was next? Hermione hating books?

Harry, Hermione and the rest of the group had been studying together with flashcards and tables all week for the alchemy test, and they were exhausted. They had gone to one of Professor Elric's study sessions on Saturday, and boy they were thankful!

She had handed anyone who wanted one a blank copy of the Table so they could practice filling it in, and she actually had to make more copies, twice, because people asked for multiple practice sheets in case of mess ups.

The practice tables became so popular that those in Alchemy had just gone around the Great Hall and the hallway asking each other if they could "Compare Tables", regardless of House. Heck, Hermione had publicly gotten that offer five times in the last half hour from a Hufflepuff, two Ravenclaws, and two Slytherins, SLYTHERINS!

Granted, it was Blaise Zabini and Theodore Nott, and they had been civil enough during their joint study group, but it was still surprising that they came up to Hermione and asked, nicely, in the middle of breakfast, if they could compare Tables, despite the glares sent at them by Ron and the others not in Professor Elric's class.

However, that didn't matter now. Now, it was time for Alchemy, and the Boy-Who-Lived was feeling unnaturally nervous. It was just a test, but there was something about the Professor that had people wanting to prove to her they could get a good grade.

He and the rest of his classmates were outside the classroom door. Professor Elric hadn't arrived, yet.

"Where is she?" he muttered, shifting from foot to foot impatiently as he fidgeted with a golf ball he always kept in his pockets. Hermione, on his left, was muttering the names of the elements like the twins had earlier and was jabbing her finger in the air like she was pointing at something as the group waited. If Harry were to guess, she was picturing a Table and was mentally filling it out. He envied her ability to do that so easily.

The few people who heard him ask his question shrugged. They were not sure, either.

They remained outside the door for the next few minutes. Some had taken to checking the clock tower visible from outside the window to see what time it was.

It was five minutes until class started, and there was still no sign of Professor Elric. It was unusual, she tended to have the door open ten minutes before class and let people file in, but they had come to the classroom and the door was as closed as every other door in the hallway, which consisted of unused classrooms and storage closets.

It took two more minutes of waiting until Blaise looked up from his Periodic Table in the direction opposite the door, "Do you hear that?"

"Hear what?" a Ravenclaw asked.

"I believe Professor Elric is coming with someone else. I can't make out who it is from here, unfortunately."

That someone else ended up being Professor Hughes, who was hobbling along slowly beside her on his crutches. He was talking to her with an animated smile on his face, and the golden-haired Professor somehow managed to convey amusement and exasperation at the same time while keeping a, mostly, straight face.

Harry wondered how that was possible. Then he wondered what Professor Hughes was saying to get such a reaction. Despite her expression, she was listening attentively to what Professor Hughes was saying, so she must value the topic of conversation.

Soon they reached within coherent earshot, and the topic was...

Still unknown. The two were talking in a language the students didn't recognize. However, Professor Elric gestured to the door with her hands as the duo stopped, her head tilted to the side like she was curious or requesting something.

Professor Hughes had an apologetic look on his face as he shook his head and responded in the unknown language. Then with a wave he turned and walked off saying what could be assumed was a goodbye of some sort.

Professor Elric, meanwhile, turned her stoic gaze to the students, "May I get to the classroom door, please?"

There were embarrassed murmurs when the students realized they were, indeed, blocking the door, and they parted like the Red Sea for Moses, letting Professor Elric enter her classroom and let the students in.

"Now, all Periodic Tables should be put away immediately. If I see any of you attempting to cheat on these quizzes, you will receive detention, lost House points, and an immediate T as your grade. The same applies for every other quiz in this class. I take these things very seriously, and will not tolerate any cheating in my class. Is that understood?"

There were nods and echoes of, "Yes Professor" echoing around the room for a few moments before the Professor gave a nod of satisfaction, "Good. Tables away, no more talking, and writing utensils out, please."

They got a blank Table with instructions on the top.

Harry mentally read, _Fill in the Periodic Table below with the symbols, and their number. Once finished, flip the parchment and answer the questions on the back. You have until the end of the class to finish. If you include all the atomic masses and get them correct, you will receive five points of extra credit, and five points to your House._

He dipped his quill into the inkwell and began to write.

_1...H...1.008...2...He...4.0026...3...Li...6.94..._

The table took quite some time to finish, he'd forgotten what some of the numbers were and had to wrack his memory, so by the time Harry had flipped to the back, he had fifteen minutes left and five questions to answer.

The first question was _What is the difference between a Cation and an Anion?_ It connected to the next question, _Name one example of an Ionic Compound. Give its scientific name, and identify which is the cation and which is the anion._

Harry had to think for a moment before he remembered. At the study session, he'd asked Professor Elric about ions. He'd had trouble remembering which was which.

(Flashback)

"Umm... Excuse me... Professor?"

Harry shifted nervously from foot to foot. Professor Elric wasn't a bad professor. She was very good at explaining things, actually. However, there was something about her that made Harry nervous, like he should be standing at attention and if he took one step out of line he would be regretting it for the rest of his life.

It could have been the eye-patch or the stoic expression that seemed to be her default expression; he wasn't sure, but it was something, and it frustrated him that he couldn't place it.

Said Professor looked up from a roll of parchment she was analyzing. It had some sort of complicated circle on it that Harry couldn't understand.

Anyway, he was now staring directly into her unnerving, golden eye. Was it natural?

"Yes, Mr. Potter? Is there something you need?"

"Umm...-"

"I am not going to snap your arm in two for asking a question. I save that for the idiots that hurt my comrades. Don't look so nervous."

Harry flushed scarlet in embarrassment. Was he really that awkward? Probably.

He wasn't quite sure if what she said was some sort of jest; Professor Elric's face had remained the same the entire time. He took a deep breath and continued, "I'm having trouble remembering the difference between cations and anions. I was wondering if there was some way to help..."

She stared at him for a moment, not blinking. Then, as soon as he thought she was going to start spouting some sort of philosophical speech with elaborate words that he would not understand half the meanings of, she opens her mouth and asks, "What is your opinion on puns?"

"What?" he blinked, stunned.

"Puns, Mr. Potter. Plays on words. What is your opinion on them?"

"... They're... annoying?"

"How so?" she raised her visible eyebrow.

"Once they get told, I can't un-hear them. It makes me think of them when I hear the word that was punned."

"Good."

"What?"

"I said 'good', but for the moment, Mr. Potter, I want you to imagine a cat."

"Umm... Okay." Harry closes his eyes and imagines a cat. Small, cute, fluffy, those _eyes_, got it. He opened his eyes.

"People tend to think cats are fluffy balls of cuteness." Harry almost choked when he heard Professor Elric say those words with such a straight face, "People think of cats in a positive light. _Cat_ions are the _paw_sitive ions that lose a negatively charged particle, or electron."*

Harry nods, cringing at the pun. Professor Elric continues, unimpeded by her play on words, despite the fact all in earshot looked like they swallowed something sour for a moment before returning to their own work.

"Now, imagine an onion."

He does. Having a feeling he knew where this was going, having cooked for the Dursleys for years. After all, onions were common in cooking.

"People hate cutting onions because they make you cry. They make you think negatively. Onion and anion are similar words in appearance, and anions are negatively charged particles that gain electrons."**

Harry had a feeling those puns would never find their way out of his mind. He simply thanked the Professor that had provided the puns, and left, hoping he would one day be able to look at cats without thinking of Alchemy lessons.

(End Flashback)

Cats and cations, onions and anions Harry reminds himself mentally as he writes _Cations are ions that lose electrons, making them positively charged. Anions are ions that gain electrons, making them negatively charged._

Then he moves on, using the commonly referenced table salt, or sodium chloride as his example.

The next problem is about covalent bonds versus ionic. The one after is to provide an example of a covalent compound and list the elements in it. He uses a simple sugar, glucose, for his example***. The last question is to list the three steps of transmutation in order and explain what happens in each step using their own words.

He hears Professor Elric say, "Five minutes left, class."

Somebody in the back swears loudly, and Professor Elric says, "A point from Ravenclaw for inappropriate language."

Harry hears other quills around him scratching faster in an attempt to finish their answers.

He stands and hands in the test, earning a nod from Professor Elric as she begins to look over his paper. So she prefers to get the grading over with there and then if she could, Harry thinks.

He returned to sit by Hermione, who had finished ten minutes ago and was now inwardly and outwardly panicking like there's no tomorrow.

The five minutes pass quickly, and Professor Elric calls out, "Quills down, please. Pass down the parchment to the person in your row closest to the center aisle where I will collect them. Miss Granger, please stop panicking, you are causing others stress."

A rustling of papers follows her instructions as she walks and collects the remaining tests. Harry is once again unnerved by the way the Professor is able to keep the class so obedient while making it look effortless. Not even McGonagall or Snape could keep the class this quiet, and they were known around the school as the worst Professors to cross. It seems the enigmatic Alchemy Professor was taking that spot now.

Harry was slightly curious about how Snape would react to that.

He had heard from Angelina Johnson that she was even able to get the Weasley Twins to pay attention and behave. How? Nobody knew, but after the first time they attempted to prank her, the Professor came out un-pranked, and they were facing a night of detention with her.

They were watching their backs for the better part of the week afterward, and the Hogwarts rumor mill said they had to clean the lavatories without magic under the young woman's strict watch. Filch had a field day when he heard.

The event made him think of something he couldn't quite place, and it nagged at him like it did Hermione, and like Hermione, he couldn't quite place it. It was on the tip of his tongue, but he couldn't figure it out.

Anyway, Professor Elric wasn't the only talk of the school.

While it was overshadowed by the talks about the Alchemy Professor's class, Professor Moody's classes also left an impression on all those who took it. Harry was disappointed he hadn't had the class until Thursday, and when he left that class later, he had a distinct feeling things would be different this year, and it wasn't just because of the Tournament.

Professor Moody was a very gruff guy, but he knew what he was talking about. He was an Auror; retired or not, he knew -experienced- what happened in real life and wasn't afraid to show them.

He could have done without the spiders, though. He may not have arachnophobia like Ron, having practically lived with them when he was still in the cupboard under the stairs, but that didn't mean the lesson was pleasant for him either. He remembered Neville's pale face at the Cruciatus curse and the sudden stillness of the final spider when it was hit with the Killing curse.

He almost felt bad for the things. A part of him was wondering what the spiders had done to deserve such a fate.

The rest of the day had been uneventful. Hagrid discovered the Skrewt's love for meat -his fingers were considered a delicacy, apparently- and all Professors made it their duty to pile towers of homework upon the poor students. McGonagall alone had assigned three essays throughout the first few days due at various points within the next week, and Flitwick was assigning reading like his life depended on it along with an essay of what they did the day before. Thankfully Harry wouldn't have to worry about the dream diaries that Ron complained about as he had dropped Divination, but Alchemy was definitely more challenging than coming up with dreams about how he would die before the end of the school year.

He was going to have to work on time management. Perhaps he could ask Hermione for help on that.

He was working on the assigned Alchemy homework with Hermione, his finished Potions essay was drying next to him on the table along with the half-way completed Charms assignment he had put aside to concentrate on assignments with a closer due date.

They had to read the first three chapters and answer the problems at the end of each chapter along with the questions Professor Elric had written on the board at the end of class using roughly a paragraph per question. She had given only three questions, but it was still a lot of work combined with the reading and problem-solving, which was very hard for someone who hadn't taken math in years (or at all for some students).

Harry heard a bout of loud swearing and turned to see what the commotion was about.

Ron was playing an intense game of Wizards Chess with Seamus, and Seamus had just lost his queen to a stupid move. The Boy Who Lived felt a twinge of sadness at this. Usually it would be him and Ron doing this, but Ron and Harry had started growing apart lately.

Ron was still procrastinating and being lazy, and Harry had started caring more about his grades upon entering Alchemy, so there was a small chasm growing between the two boys. They couldn't really hold a conversation anymore without it being awkward as all hell, and Harry didn't know what to think about that.

Neville had also started spending more time with Harry and Hermione, so it's like there was a new trio formed as the old one fell apart. The change was so seamless that people didn't really notice it until a few days later. By then it was old news so there weren't many rumors for once.

Speaking of Neville, Hermione was currently explaining to the poor boy the reason dragonfly wings had to be crushed instead of cut or something along those lines, and the boy was trying his hardest to scribble the information down so he could remember it.

Harry, meanwhile, was currently staring at the third board-question on their Alchemy homework.

_Explain the concept of equivalent exchange. Explain why you think it is important to Alchemy using what you know of Chemistry._

He had already answered the first part, but the second part of the question was an analysis question, where he had to read between the lines using his current knowledge.

He knew the three steps: Understanding, Decomposition, Re-composition. He knew equivalent exchange meant that in order do something, something of equal value must be given. He knew the Periodic Table. He knew some basic chemistry, and they had learned how to balance chemical formulas just a day ago...

Wait... _balancing_? Alchemy is basically Chemistry taken a few steps further practically! That means that basics of Chemistry still apply to Alchemy, and balancing chemical formulas was important in order to understand the reaction. _Balance_ means the two sides have to be equal! Equivalent exchange!

He quickly scribbled down his realization on his parchment with more vigor that he had been doing. Hermione looked over in surprise, "You seem excited, Harry."

"I just figured out the answer to the second part of the third question. I was just a little excited. Sorry."

"Why are you apologizing? It's great that you are figuring things out with less help." she reddened slightly after she said that, "That sounded better in my head. I probably sounded insulting there... I-"

"It's fine Hermione. I know what you were trying to say. I don't know why I apologized," Harry rubbed the back of his head, "Habit, maybe? Thanks for the help with Potions, though."

"It's no problem, Harry. I'm just glad you're starting to take your studies a little more seriously. You really are smart, you just put yourself down too much. Neville, you do it as well! You're smart but you need a little bit more confidence."

"R-r-right," their nervous fellow Gryffindor stuttered, "Sorry."

"There's no need to apologize, Neville. We're friends, we shouldn't hesitate to help each other out when we need it."

"R-right. Th-Thanks, Hermione." Neville smiled shyly before he returned to his Herbology assignment, since he decided to work on the Potions essay afterwards.

Harry smiled. Neville was a nice guy. He was shy, but once you befriended him, he had your back.

He had proven this when a passing Slytherin had sent an insult at Harry on a fine Thursday afternoon. The shy boy's inner lion had come out for a moment, and he'd responded to the snide comment with, "He's a bloody hell of a lot nicer than you! He works hard and doesn't lean on his parents for everything, so shove off until you get your own backbone!"

After the event, Neville had stuttered about how his Gran would have stuffed a bar of soap in his mouth if he had said that around her and Harry just stood around awkwardly in awe and pat the boy's back, but he couldn't get the way Neville had stood up for him out of his head. It was like a less overbearing Ron.

Neville had also focused on a trait of Harry instead of just insulting the opposing forces like Ron always did. It made Harry feel very happy that he was friends with Neville. He should do something for his fellow classmate at some point. Maybe make him something? Or get him a plant or a Herbology book? He knew Neville liked Herbology more than all the other classes, and he had been talking to Harry recently about different medicinal plants and their properties.

Neville's dream was to own many greenhouses worth of plants, maybe even teach others about them, as he had once admitted to Harry that explaining to the scarred boy about the different plants and their properties was fun and helped keep him more positive about things.

Harry was glad he was being of assistance, even if he hadn't realized it at first. It was originally just because he wanted help with Herbology.

He waved the Alchemy assignment in the air to dry it before putting it aside and stretching. He had another hour until curfew, and he felt the need to stretch his legs. He'd been sitting in one place since he'd returned from dinner, and he had a lot of energy to burn off. Hermione chose to finish as many assignments as possible before curfew, so she was scribbling away at what he believed was a Muggle Studies essay. Neville had sworn he would finish his Charms essay today unlike Harry, who had decided to work on it piecemeal.

"I'm going to go on a walk." he said, standing up and grabbing a sketchpad and pencil Hermione had sent him once for his birthday when he had told her he enjoyed drawing, even if he didn't think he was particularly good at it.

"Alright, Harry." Hermione responded, not looking up from the sentence she was writing, "Remember to be back by curfew. Have fun."

"Got it." he smiled awkwardly with a salute. Neville sent him a smile and a, "Enjoy your walk, Harry." as he left the table.

He opened the portrait and crawled out quickly, sending a wave to Nearly Headless Nick as the portrait closed behind him.

Harry didn't bother taking his invisibility cloak or the Marauder's Map, since he wasn't going on one of his infamous adventures. He was just taking a stroll.

This was relaxing, he thought. Just strolling through Hogwarts without anything to worry about except for Peeves. Was this what it felt like to be normal?

He could get used to this.

He let his feet take him to a courtyard. He found a bench and sat down.

Now that he just relaxed and looked around, he noticed the courtyard was quite nice looking. He opened his sketchpad to an empty page and started sketching under the light of a close by wall sconce.

He'd been about halfway through when he heard a gruff, accented, but pleasantly-toned voice say, "That's a nice drawing you have there, kiddo."

If his hand had been on the paper, there would be a jagged line going across the page as he jumped in surprise. He looked behind him to see someone he didn't expect.

"Oh! Umm... Professor Hughes?" he stuttered.

The man smiled, "Ah, so you know me? That's an introduction off my list." the smile turned apologetic, "Sadly I can't say the same, I don't believe you are in my class."

"I'm not." Harry confirmed before blushing when he realized that might sound rude, "Sorry, that came out wrong... Umm... Harry... Potter, it's nice to meet you, Professor." he stuttered and held out his hand awkwardly.

"I believe the phrase is 'no harm done'. I'm Maes Hughes." the man responds with a friendly smile the boy couldn't help but return, taking Harry's hand in a firm handshake, "It's a pleasure to meet you as well. Juna's told me a bit about you and the rest of her classes, I believe."

"Juna?" Harry's head tilted in confusion.

"You'll know her better as Professor Elric. Juna's just her first name." Hughes answers.

"You two are friends?" Harry asks. He's been curious about this for a while, and the answers were able to be provided by a certain Muggle Studies Professor sitting next to him. He was intrigued how two people who were such opposites became so close.

"That's correct." the man laughs, "I've known her and her brothers for a few years now. The first time I met her, she was even shorter than she is now." he gestures with his hands as he says this, "I'm pretty sure my wife has just about adopted them at this point in all ways besides on paper! She's a bit old to be our daughter, but paternal instincts don't really stop for age."

Harry blinks, so Professor Elric really was young if she was young enough to be considered anything resembling a daughter to someone around Hughes's age. The age gap between them must be pretty large. Hughes didn't look very old, thirty at most, even if there was something in his eyes that made him look older.

"Anyway, enough about Juna and I. You like art?"

Harry nods and suddenly feels a little shy, "I-it's a hobby... I don't think I'm all that great at it, though." he mumbled. He offers the sketch pad to the man anyway and lets him look through it.

The boy used the time Hughes was looking through the drawings to observe the man.

He was tall and lean, and Harry could tell the man was someone rarely seen without a smile on his face. Even as he looked through the sketches Harry made, the smile was there, and... was that nostalgia he saw on the man's face?

His drawings were mostly based around Hogwarts and the Magical side of his life. Among the ten or so he currently had in there was a drawing of the Great Hall, with the tables full, the sky full of stars, and the first years coming in to be sorted by the ragged Sorting Hat on the stool.

Another was of the Gryffindor common room. Hermione sat at a desk working on Homework, the twins were plotting pranks in the corner, Crookshanks was sleeping by the fire, and Ron was playing Wizard Chess with Seamus at another table.

The courtyard he was sketching was still in its bare-bone outline stages, but you could see ivy crawling its way up the wall, sconces lighting paths for students, and the bright moon and stars above.

The one before that -Harry is quite proud of this one- is a picture of a large, black dog giving the viewer a huge doggy grin, with his tongue out and eyes bright. In decorative letters underneath was the name "Padfoot de Snuffles" which Harry had put as a joke and didn't have the heart to erase later. Hughes had lightly chuckled at that picture.

Once he had gone through the drawings he handed the sketch pad back to Harry, "You're a good artist, kid. You have potential." The man's hazel eyes gained a faraway look his smile gaining a sad note, "My daughter, Elicia also loves to draw; mostly animals. She's turning four soon, and is a little angel." he takes out something from his pocket -three photographs- and shows them to Harry.

The first photo was of a little girl with green eyes and dirty blonde hair. She was smiling an adorable smile at the cake in front of her, eyes full of childish delight. On one side of the chair was a young woman with a bob cut that looked very similar to the girl; she was giving a gentle smile. Professor Hughes was standing on the other side, his arm was around the woman, and he was giving the girl a wide, goofy smile. He could see professor Elric leaning against the wall in the back with two people next to her, and sitting in another seat at the table was a girl with light blonde hair and blue eyes.

"This one was from Elicia's third birthday." Hughes explained with a wide smile, "The woman with me is my lovely wife, Gracia." his smile was full of adoration for the two before he calms himself and continues, "In the back being wallflowers are the Elric siblings. There's Juna, who's your professor, her twin brother, Ed, and their younger brother, Al -he's the suit of armor-, who are all brilliant Alchemists. The blonde girl is their friend Winry Rockbell, a mechanic that designs automail."

"Automail?" Harry asks, having never heard the term.

"They're a type of prosthetic limb made for those who need them. They're a little different from the average prosthetic. They connect to your nerves so you can move them like any limb with ease; though, the surgery is very painful and it takes years to recover." Hughes winces, "I know people who've had the operation, women and men, and I have a huge amount of respect for them; that's determination."

He moves on to the next picture. This time it's Elicia and Gracia sitting together on a couch. In Elicia's hands is what appears to be a picture book of some sort.

The final picture is what causes Harry to start in surprise, though; Elicia was on her hands and knees on the floor working on a puzzle. However, the odd thing was that next to her on the floor sitting side-saddle was Professor Elric, and she was smiling a small smile!

"Um... Professor Hughes, sir?" Harry stuttered, "Is Professor Elric..." he tried to say "smiling" but it wouldn't come out.

The Muggles Studies Professor seemed to know what he was asking, though, and smiled wider, amused, "Yes, she's smiling. It was one of the first times I'd seen her do so, and I just had to get a picture. I scrambled for my camera faster than you could say 'magic'!"

That caused Harry to smile as he looked at the clock tower and noticed he had to get to bed soon. He excused himself and bid Professor Hughes good night. The man was a nice guy.

As his back was turned, he didn't see the way Hughes eyes got a faraway look as he continued gazing at the pictures. The smile had faded from his face.

He remembered each of these days well, like it was yesterday. He remembered how Elicia had run up to Juna, almost tripping on the way but too excited to care, and she asked the alchemist if she could help her with the puzzle she'd gotten from the toy store that day. Juna had stared at the girl for a solid half minute before she agreed to the surprise of Ed and Al, who were talking to Gracia nearby.

The moment Juna agreed, Elicia grinned and grabbed the older girl's hand, dragging her off to the corner of the living room where the two began to work; Ed had laughed at just how stunned Juna had looked being dragged off by a hyper three-year-old. Hughes had gone to check up on them fifteen minutes later when they were about a quarter of a way through the puzzle. He only saw the smile out of pure luck, and the next moment he was scrambling for the camera. When he showed her brothers the picture, Ed looked like he would die of heart failure right then and there before he said something that caught Hughes's attention.

It likely wasn't something he was supposed to hear, it sounded too personal, but the words stuck with him.

"She hasn't smiled like that since Mom was alive."

Now that he thinks about it, that was around the time Gracia insisted the siblings come over more. Maybe that was the day the three Elrics became honorary Hughes. All three of them seemed to lighten up afterward when they entered the house. It's almost like it became another home. Heck, Gracia had even set aside a room and spare key if they ever wanted to just come by. Juna, the one who spent the most time researching and finding leads while the brothers traveled took the offer most often, and she soon was seen to be smiling more often, at least in the house.

The man took a deep breath to calm himself before he struggled up into a standing position wobbling slightly before he steadied himself and began the trek to his rooms. He was thankful Madame Pomfrey showed him some secret passages because he would never have gotten back to the proper floor otherwise.

He entered his office to find Juna still there grading the quizzes she handed out that day.

"You're back." she commented in Amestrian. The duo always spoke in Amestrian when they weren't in public, as it was a way of getting privacy. In public, they spoke English as they didn't want a repeat of Moody's suspicion in the teacher's lounge.

He nods, "Yeah. It was getting late, so I'm heading to bed. I recommend you do the same. You already finished most of them, and you have a small class tomorrow."

She looked up to check the time, realizing he was right, "I will finish this quiz then head to bed."

She noticed Hughes's look of doubt and sighed, "I promised Mustang I would try to stick to an eleven O'clock bedtime unless it can't be avoided. I will be heading back to prepare for bed after this quiz. I need to clean my automail, so preparation will take a bit of time."

The man nodded in approval, "Take care of yourself, then, Juna. I'll see you tomorrow."

"See you then."

He begins heading to his room before he looks back at her, "I saw that kid you mentioned, Harry Potter? He's a good kid, Did you know he likes to draw?"

She looked up, curious, "I did not know this, but it might help him when drawing transmutation circles. Why do you ask?"

"Just remembering a certain person who drew all over their paperwork a year ago." he winked at her, causing her to roll her eye. She had a preference for doodling geometric patterns, and had gotten bored one day, cooped up in the office doing paperwork. It was the one time she realized how Mustang felt on a daily basis, and can anyone blame her? Leaving a fifteen year old with a pile of dull paperwork to their own devices is never a good idea no matter where you are. They should be grateful it was only designs that she drew and not anything inappropriate!

"I am seventy-five percent sure that that was a lie." she says as she adds a check-mark over the Table on the quiz she was grading.

Hughes sighs. The smile was wavering, "Hiding stuff from you is not easy." he murmurs, "He let me look through his pictures, and I just remembered how Elicia would run up and show me her drawings saying, 'Daddy! Daddy! Look what I made today!' I..." he trailed off. He sighs again.

Juna finishes the comment she's writing to the poor sap that thought 'covalent' was spelled 'covenant' when the word was in the question itself, and then proceeded to criticize how he used H2 as his example when she asked for a compound specifically, which implies more than one element in the molecule****. Then she stands and makes her way over to Hughes.

She puts her hand on his shoulder and squeezes it gently in comfort. She'd seen Gracia do it a few times -has had it done to her on her own fleshy shoulder once or twice- and decided it was better than any awkward words of comfort she could ever give at the moment.

It seemed to work somewhat since Hughes gave her a tired, grateful smile before he continues to trip to his room.

As promised, Juna went to prepare for bed after the quiz she was grading was graded. She washed up and went through her usual stretches after she cleaned and oiled the limbs before going to bed.

She would have to send Winry a request for winter automail soon, she thought as she started drifting off to sleep. The weather was going to get cold soon, and the less times she was sent to the hospital wing for frostbite the better.

**That's it for this chapter! It was a bit of a filler, but I didn't want to time skip too much, as the first two chapters only got past the first day of class. I want to avoid quoting the book like I've seen many writers do, so I will summarize the spots I feel are important or add my own commentary instead while I add new things with more detail (ie: Moody's class was summarized in a paragraph or so while the Alchemy quiz was a third of the chapter). **

**If you notice mistakes in the Chemistry facts I try to drizzle in, tell me and I will correct them. I am trying to keep it as accurate as possible.**

**Don't forget to like and review if you are enjoying this story! If you have constructive criticism, don't be shy! This could be anything from typos to pieces of the story you felt weren't written well.**

*** and **: I heard these puns in a video that my chemistry teacher showed us once to help us remember the difference between the two ions. I'm just using them because I thought they were extremely catchy and would make Harry unable to un-hear them. I sure can't.**

*****: Simple sugars are also called monosaccharides; three commonly known monosaccharides are glucose, fructose, and galactose. Imagine them like Lego pieces; they are the pieces that combine together to form more complicated sugars. For example sucrose (white/table sugar) is a combination of glucose and fructose. As it's a combination of two types of monosaccharides (mono- meaning one), it's called a disaccharide (di- meaning two). I will not go further into detail as that would be an essay-long explanation. To summarize, monosaccharides are building blocks for more complex sugars.**

******: I had to look this up as I couldn't remember the exact difference; compound and molecule aren't interchangeable terms. It's like how every square's a rectangle but not every rectangle's a square. Molecule is the umbrella term in this case, like rectangle, while compound is the more specific, like square. A compound is when the molecule is made up of more than one element, like water (H2O) and carbon dioxide (CO2), but a molecule can also include things like H2 and O2. **

**I hope this clears up any confusion.**

**Have a great day!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Another chapter! I don't really have any important announcements, so I'll just get on with the story. I hope you enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: FMA (Both) and HP belong to their creators. I am not their creator. **

**Chapter 4: The Schools Arrive or Why Are People So Tall?**

The schools would be arriving this week, on the thirty-first.

Hermione was excited about this.

There was also a partner project in Muggle Studies due this week.

She still had no clue what to think of this.

She had to work with Malfoy as they were seat partners -and the whole Malfoy being civil thing still felt very surreal, despite it being almost two months into the year-, and the project would involve multiple interactions with the blond, recently-turned-enigma.

Hermione still didn't know what caused such a drastic change in the Slytherin's behavior, but she didn't know how to ask without sounding pushy. She wouldn't be able to get away with that with Malfoy like she would if she was with Harry or Ron; she wasn't close enough to the blond teenager relationship-wise. At the moment one would call them reluctant but civil acquaintances at best.

True, Malfoy came to the joint study sessions, but he only ever joined in the discussion if he had a question that couldn't be answered by Blaise or Theo -as the boy was requesting the group call him-, so interactions were still rather minimal despite his less antagonistic actions.

Either way, she was currently waiting for Malfoy at the Quidditch Pitch. He had practice with his team in the evening, so they agreed to meet up directly after dinner was over, giving them about two hours to work before Malfoy had to go. She was sitting cross-legged on a bench in the third row, her notes were spread out on it with books and her inkwell being used as paperweights. She had gotten there early as she hadn't been very hungry, and she decided to start brainstorming.

The class had gone into a new unit. They were talking about Muggle schooling now. For the project, the students had to pick one class from the list they received at the beginning of the unit and explain at least three ways it would be applied in the muggle world. They would be turning their findings in the day the schools arrive and presenting their findings the next time they have class. They would be graded based on a rubric given out the day the project was assigned.

They were allowed to mention other classes, but the class they chose had to be the main topic. For example, if someone chose English, they could combine foreign language classes and use the example of an English teacher in a foreign country. She and Malfoy had agreed to do Chemistry, a good choice considering how many sciences were connected to it in some way.

When they told Professor Hughes, he gave them the okay, but then made an announcement to the class.

"To those who chose Chemistry, you are not allowed to include Alchemy in your explanations, for while it is used in the muggle world, it's only well known in one country alongside the magical world; it would give those in Professor Elric's class too much of an advantage over others as well."

That made things a little more difficult, but not by much. She made sure she had a few ideas to bring up with Malfoy when the meeting time came so they could get started right away.

Speaking of Malfoy, she noticed her fellow fourth year had just arrived and was moving towards her position; she noticed he was already in Quidditch garb. Hermione checked the clock, he was a few minutes early. Oh well, it was more time to work on the project.

"Granger." he nodded as he placed the books he brought down on the ground next to the bench next to him and placed a roll of parchment and ink in front of him. She noticed one of the books was the alchemy textbook.

She asked about it, and he answered with, "The first few chapters are full of Chemistry. Even if we can't use Alchemy, I thought it would be useful."

Hermione had not thought of that.

The two began to work discussing ideas of how muggles would use Chemistry in the real world. Malfoy had brought his own list of ideas, so the two had quite a bit to work with. They only _needed_ three examples, but it wouldn't hurt to use more.

"Granger."

Hermione looked up from one of the lists she was making. She was listing the ways each example was important. Malfoy was doing the same with his list, and they would look over their findings afterward to decide which examples to use; however, Malfoy had stopped writing, staring at his parchment in thought.

"Do you need Alchemy to create alloys?"

She paused, guessing where this was going, "No. There is a process that was invented during a period known as the Industrial Revolution -an event beginning in the mid-eighteenth century in England-; the Bessemer process allowed for the mass production of steel. Some other alloys Professor Elric mentioned are cast iron, titanium, bronze, brass, rose and white gold, and sterling silver to name a few, and you do not need Alchemy to create them; you merely need the right tools and machines."

Malfoy nodded to show he understood and wrote some of the information down. He had remembered the lesson on alloys. Professor Elric had actually taught them that last lesson.

Hermione had asked what the Professor's specialty was because she remembered the book mentioning in the prologue how since Alchemy was so hard to learn, Alchemists specialized in specific types of Alchemy.

Professor Elric had raised an eyebrow at the question before she placed the chalk down and faced the class. Besides Hermione, nobody except a two Ravenclaws and Blaise Zabini seemed to know why the question was asked.

"From the looks on your faces, I can only assume nobody read the prologue." she commented blandly, earning many embarrassed looks and mumbles, "Alchemists tend to specialize in certain areas of Alchemy, as the subject's difficult to learn, and has a large variety of different types as well. One of my fellow Alchemists specializes in flame Alchemy, a very specialized, but very difficult area of expertise. I am proficient in multiple fields of Alchemy, and that was an important part of why I was hired for this job; however, my specialty is metals. I am particularly skilled in creating and using alloys -metals made of two or more metallic elements."

That lead to the quick lesson on alloys. It was a very fast-paced, but to-the-point lesson because they needed to get back to the original lesson, calculating the energy involved in performing chemical reactions.

Malfoy shook his head, clearing his thoughts. He needed to focus on Muggle Studies. He scribbled down some more words before he noticed Hermione staring at him, "What is it, Granger?"

The bushy-haired girl blushed in embarrassment at being caught and mumbled, "You've been acting... different. It's not _bad_... I was just wondering what changed."

"If by 'different', you mean less offensive and rude..." Malfoy paused a moment to think on his next words, "You could say that I have had a wake-up call of sorts over the summer and wished to change my behavior. Don't expect me to be all friendly and fun with you, Granger, but... I will try to be... nicer."

Hermione didn't pry further, feeling that was as much as she would get out of him. The two continued the project, getting the entire paper portion done before the Slytherin team got to the Quidditch Pitch. The two agreed to meet again in two days at the same time to work on their presentation and parted ways to continue with their routines.

While Malfoy went to practice, Hermione made her way to the Gryffindor Common Room. She was thinking about what sort of wake-up call would cause such a drastic change in behavior when she crashed into someone turning a corner.

Hermione found herself flat on her back, stunned; she hadn't seen that coming, literally. Was she really so far into her thoughts? She pushed herself into a sitting position, rubbing her poor tailbone that took the brunt of the fall, and began collecting her things that fell from her hands.

"Sorry," she muttered, embarrassed once again, "I wasn't looking where I was going."

Now that she thought of it, who had she bumped into?

Hermione looked over and saw Professor Elric collecting her own armload of items. The blonde looked over, her eye still holding that same bland look she always had.

"It is alright." she said, "I, myself, was also not paying attention to my surroundings. I hope I didn't hurt you too much with that collision?"

"I'm alright." Hermione assured, "Here, let me help." and she assisted the Professor in collecting the very large pile of books, "Where were you headed? I can help you carry these."

"Oh," the professor blinked, a little off guard, "You don't need to..."

"I insist." Hermione said, "I did make you drop all of these, it's only fair that I help carry them."

Professor Elric was silent for a moment, contemplating, before she spoke again, "Very well, Miss Granger, but as I also made you drop your own load. I feel I should also do something for you as well. Equivalent exchange."

The blonde thought for a moment as they walked, "Perhaps a piece of... what is the word... advice. You are an inquisitive person, yes?"

Hermione reddened slightly, "I am certainly fond of gaining new knowledge..." she stuttered. Was she so easy to read? Probably. It's not like she hid her bookishness."

"Then it is settled. I am first going to the Muggle Studies classroom in order to drop off a few of these. Maes has asked me to bring some books from the library earlier today. The rest is for some light reading."

Hermione looked to the Professor, "Maes is Professor Hughes's first name?"

"Yes."

"I take it you two are close?"

"Yes." Professor Elric nodded, "I have known him for a few years, now. He is a good man. You are in his class, correct? I have seen you there if I recall correctly."

"You have," Hermione confirms.

The two walk on in silence before they reach the classroom.

The Professor nudges the door open with her foot and stands aside as Hermione walks through before gently kicking it closed.

Professor Hughes was at his desk. He'd lost the crutches, but he had a long way to go before he was back to full strength. He currently was just sitting, spaced out and like he was in a different world altogether.

Professor Elric, guessing what he was thinking about, sighed and began the process of getting his attention, "Maes."

No response, "Maes."

Nothing, "Maes Hughes."

Still nothing, she sighed again, placed the books down, gesturing for Hermione to do the same before she looked to the left, adopted a look of false shock, put a hand to her cheek and pointed with another, and cried out, "OH MY GOODNESS! A BOY IS FLIRTING WITH ELICIA!"

That snapped him out of it. He jumped up like the chair was made of coals, pulled a gun from his pocket and with a vigor that Hermione hadn't seen before, looked around with the aura of an overprotective dad yelling, "WHAT!? WHERE!? PAPA'S COMING ELICIA! WHERE'S THIS BOY!?"

The blonde professor returned to her usual deadpan expression and said, "There is no boy. I was trying to get your attention. We have brought you the books that you requested."

Professor Hughes blinked in surprise, "Oh." he looked to the two neat stacks of books, "Oh. Thanks." he began removing the ones he requested, and turned to see Hermione standing a little awkwardly to the side, looking more than a little off guard, "Miss Granger? Did you have a question?"

"She helped me bring the books here." Professor Elric explained, "If she has a question for you, though..." she looked to the lone student, who started at the attention.

"I don't at the moment, Professor Hughes... Actually..." she bit her lip, thinking for a moment before asking, "If it's not too personal, who is Elicia?"

The man blinked again in surprise before he smiled warmly, "She's my daughter, a little angle." his smile turned wistful, "She's the sweetest little child a parent could ask for."

He took out the photograph he had of her birthday and showed it to Hermione, "Isn't she adorable?"

Hermione blinked, "Y-yes." she stuttered, "She's very adorable."

Hughes looked like he was going to continue, but Professor Elric cleared her throat loudly, causing him to deflate with a pout, "Alright, Juna, alright. I'll stop... for now."

That earned him an unimpressed stare and a raised eyebrow.

Hermione blinked, "... Juna?"

"That is my first name." Professor Elric answered before she remembered, "I believe I was going to give you a piece of advice. Care to walk with me to my classroom? I need to take the rest of the books there, anyways."

Hermione nodded numbly as she picked up one of the leftover stacks. The dynamic between these two Professors was very different outside of class. Professor Elric was so much more open, and Professor Hughes was so much more... eccentric? He tended to remain professional during classes, though he was a little more relaxed and laid back then most teachers. His classes tended to be like Flitwicks in that they had many practical demonstrations, and the lesson was always turned almost into a game of sorts.

After bidding Professor Hughes a good evening, the two bookworms continued their journey to the Alchemy classroom. The walk was once again in silence, and neither was quite socially adept enough to break the ice a second time.

They arrived quickly and headed to the office. Hermione took a moment to realize she'd never actually been in the shorter Professor's office before she stepped in.

The room was simple and not overly personalized. There was a desk at the end of the room with an armchair behind it. There was a coffee table in the center of the room with a couch on each side, likely for anyone else that comes in. There was a fireplace burning merrily with bookshelves on each side filled with books both familiar and foreign, most having to do with Alchemy or Science in general. Hermione hadn't known so many books on the supposedly lost art existed!

It was humbling to see so much knowledge on a topic in one place.

There was a window behind the desk giving a lovely view of the grounds, and there was a door -likely leading to the Professor's living quarters- on the one empty wall that was closed. There was only one photograph on the coffee table. It showed Professor Elric with a boy that looked like a male copy of her and a suit of armor standing behind them. They were outside with farm fields stretching extensively in the background. The two blonds in the picture were smiling and laughing, covered in grass and dirt as if they had just been rolling around play-fighting on the ground.

Hermione set down her load next to Professor Elric's on the coffee table and stared at the photograph in stunned silence. Professor Elric had left to get something, leaving the bushy-haired brunette to her own devices.

Professor Elric looked so relaxed and laid back in the photograph. One of her arms was around the boy's shoulders, the boy repeating the action on her. She still had the eyepatch, but she was wearing a t-shirt and loose shorts without shoes, and Hermione gasped when she noticed something about the girl in the photograph.

Her limbs were made of metal.

At that moment, as if summoned by Hermione's thoughts, Professor Elric entered the room with a tray in her hands.

She set the items down onto the coffee table, "I have some tea if you want any. Help yourself to the biscuits at well, they're particularly delicious today." she looked up and noticed Hermione wasn't paying attention, "Miss Granger? Is something the matter? You look pale."

The words came before she could stop them, "You have metal limbs?" she stuttered out with a voice pitched higher with shock and almost-hysteria.

The Alchemy Professor blinked before realizing where Hermione was looking. She didn't answer, just took off her gloves and rolled up her pant legs. She took off her eyepatch as well, allowing her automail eye to open properly for the first time in weeks.

"Automail." she explained, "Metal prosthetics that connect to the person's nerves, allowing them to move as easily as any limb. They are very helpful, though I can't feel with them. Winter and rain are always annoying, though; the skin where the ports connect becomes red and painful."

"... Ports?" Hermione's voice only got more hysterical.

Professor Elric rolls up one of the pant legs to above the knee, showing the area where skin meets metal.

"We didn't come here to discuss my lack of flesh limbs, though. I don't like pity, Miss Granger, so I tend to cover them. Have some tea?"

Hermione took the offered cup and a biscuit, taking a sip and a bite while looking at the Professor inquiringly.

The blonde was still calm and poised as ever. It was as if she hadn't just revealed herself to have most of her body made of metal. Comparing this person to the laughing, laid-back one in the photograph was rather surreal.

Professor Elric took a sip of her own cup before putting it down and giving Hermione her signature stare. The girl tried very hard not to shift in discomfort, as the stare was very unnerving without the automail eye added to the mix, let alone with it.

"I have had you in my class for two months, Miss Granger." she began, "You are very bright like your other Professors have said."

The girl in question's face lit up at the praise.

"However, I have noticed some things in your assignments that I feel limit your understanding."

Hermione blinked, confused. What was she doing wrong?

"When a Professor reads a student's work, they don't have the time to pick apart every word if they want to return the essays in a timely manner. We skim through, looking for keywords and phrases to see if you understand the topic. We do this for fifty essays or so before we come across yours. It is beautifully written, but it's at least twice the length of other essays. While this isn't automatically a bad thing, the problem is that you overcrowd the parchment with so many details and references that it is overwhelming. It is too much."

The bushy-haired girl looks down, feeling unsure how to take this. She'd never really been criticized for this sort of thing before; even Harry and Ron never really brought it up. Only Snape ever really got close, calling her a 'Know-it-all'. Is that what he means? She's doing too much?

She feels a weight on her shoulder, and a glint of metal shows it was Professor Elric's hand.

"Please look up Miss Granger."

Hermione does, meeting the golden pool that was Professor Elric's eye.

"I am not saying you should hold back your intelligence, but I believe all Professors would prefer if you condensed the information a little. Read over your work to see if there are any phrases or sentences that are going off-topic or are going too far beyond the detail we ask for."

Hermione frowns a little further, "But... how would I know how far is too far? I've always written like this."

Professor Elric remains silent for a moment, Hermione lets her think, "I have an idea. Do any of your Professors give rubrics?"

"Rubrics?" she blinks, "As in the grading rubrics they use in muggle schools?" Professor Elric nods, and Hermione shakes her head, "The Professors don't really give those. Professor Hughes has given us one for his project, though."

The blonde blinks, "So for the past four years there haven't been many guidelines for you on how much is too little or too much. Perhaps a rubric would be helpful for you. I could make a general rubric for you if you would like. You would be able to use it for multiple classes."

That caused Hermione to start in surprise, "But, I wouldn't want to add too much to your schedule..."

"Nonsense," Professor Elric waves her off, "It is not like I have to discover the meaning of life. I can make you a rubric and get it to you by the end of this week. Until then, try to apply the advice. Is that alright with you?"

Hermione doesn't know what to say, her mouth is opening and closing like a fish, and no sound is coming out. She sighs, feeling she won't be able to stop the Professor and nods.

"Very well, then." the blonde says, "Feel free to take another biscuit."

The two continue drinking their tea and begin talking about less important things. Hermione asks Juna what sort of books she liked reading for leisure, and occasionally recommended a book she thought the Professor would like. In return, Professor Elric did the same; though, she recommended some good resources she found in the library for certain classes.

"You didn't strike me as the type to read mysteries," Hermione commented, "Have you ever read Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's _Sherlock Holmes_ stories?"

"There is a translated version back home; though, I am curious what the stories are like in their mother tongue. I feel certain things were lost in the translation. Agatha Christie is also a good writer; though, I've only found her books here."

"I actually just started reading her books over the summer! I've brought _Murder on the Orient Express_ if you haven't read it yet and would like to borrow."

"I have read the book already and enjoyed it quite thoroughly. Perhaps I will take you up on your offer at some point if I wish to re-read it. Also, I was looking through the library earlier this week and found a Potions theory book. It explains the different ingredients and how they react to each other very well. It may help your friends out as well, I've heard from Severus that they tend to struggle in Potions."

"Really? What is the book called?"

"It is named _A Breakdown of Potions and the Ingredients Behind Them _written by your Professor, Severus Snape."

"Oh?" that caught Hermione's interest, "I hadn't realized he wrote a book!"

"It is actually not very old compared to most magical texts. Severus is currently the youngest Potions Master to achieve the title and had written the book to do so. It is like a thesis for a college student to give a rough comparison. He became a Potions Master around the age of twenty -and a Professor soon after-, so the book has been there for roughly fifteen to sixteen years."*

"I never knew this! I should take a look at that book." Hermione quickly began rummaging in her bag for parchment and ink when she was paused by Professor Elric. She handed the bushy-haired girl a slip of parchment that already had the title of the book on it.

She thanked the blonde and bid her a good evening, deciding it was time to return to her common room.

That was quite fun, Hermione smiled, she hoped that wasn't the last time she'd be able to talk to the Professor not as student and teacher, but as people who share common interests.

...

The week passed quickly, Juna had gotten the rubric to Hermione as promised, and the brunette did her best to compress her knowledge into fewer words. She still had to reread her essays, not quite at the point where she could judge what was far enough on the fly, but Juna had heard from the teachers that the change in length was already noticeable.

Harry was also getting some commentary in the teacher's lounge. The Professors had noticed his increased work ethic, and many were quite proud of him. Even Snape had less snide comments, and the Potions Professor had begun treating the boy with less hostility. The same could be said for Neville.

Malfoy's behavior was also a shock to the entire student body, and lead to many rumors as to what could have caused such a drastic change. Only Hermione knew anything, and she remained tight-lipped about the meager knowledge she had.

However, the thing that caused the most excitement, gossip, and anxiety was a simple fact that the foreign schools would be arriving that evening. Most of the professors were running around doing last-minute preparations and trying to get everything absolutely perfect, which was a rather amusing sight for some.

Throughout the week, McGonagall and Snape could often be found on the verge of pointing wands at each other as they argued about the most trivial things like what order the Houses would be standing in, or how many banners should be hung in the Great Hall, or if the suits of armor were properly polished. Sprout would often be close by and ready to mediate. If she wasn't around, the two would be found being forcefully separated by Professor Elric and Hughes, who would then proceed to find the Head of Hufflepuff.

Honestly, that woman must have the patience of a saint! Some students had even collaborated and made a "Sprout Appreciation Present", and gave it to the kind professor the morning of the foreign schools' arrivals. It was a gift the woman accepted with joy.

As classes ended early that day, there were many happy students, especially those who had Snape as their last class, as the man had threatened to poison the students to test their antidotes.

He was actually using some rats, but they didn't need to know that. He had a reputation to keep up!

Now the students were all standing on the grounds; the first years were in front and seventh years were in the back. The professors stood off to the side, flanking Dumbledore.

Juna stood patiently, looking almost still enough to be a statue as she waited for the inevitable arrival of the schools.

As she was on the edge of the line of professors and was the closest to the position of the students, she got the chance to overhear the many theories of how the schools would be arriving.

It still weirded her out how magical people used such strange methods of transportation. Who just looks at a burning fire and a bunch of sparkle-dust and thinks "Oh wow! This will be an amazing way to travel!"

Why? Just WHY?

She snapped to attention when she heard Dumbledore mention the arrival of the French school. She believed it was called Beauxbatons?

Some students began theorizing what was approaching. A kid, his last name was Collin Creevy if she recalled -he was in her third-year class- claimed it was a flying house, and he wasn't too far off the mark.

It was a gigantic, blue carriage pulled by enormous palomino pegasi. In the back of her mind, Juna wondered how much food it took to feed those huge beasts. Then the door opened and out came a woman whose height was only rivaled by Hagrid! Dumbledore didn't even have to bend much to kiss her hand. Juna felt her eyebrow twitch slightly; where could she get some height? Among the Hogwarts Staff, the only ones she was taller than were Flitwick (who had goblin blood), and Sprout (who was not much taller than an average first year).

They should be grateful Ed wasn't nearby. He didn't have nearly as much restraint as she did. The thought made her miss her brother's rants towards Mustang.

She and her students, who were not dressed for the weather, went inside. Juna was glad she'd had her regular automail switched out for the winter version recently, for the temperatures had, indeed, been decreasing, and causing her ports extreme discomfort. She worshipped the reusable heating pads she'd brought with her on her mission, and had two or three around each port with one under her eyepatch.

She wondered if France was warm year-long. The thin, silk uniforms were definitely not meant for cold weather, unlike the Hogwarts uniform that had thick, warm cloaks for winter use.

Durmstrang came not long after via a ghostship that rose from the lake. It didn't look nearly as friendly as the powdered blue carriage, but it was just as grand and magnificent. The headmaster, followed by his students walked up to Dumbledore to greet the old man. One student named Viktor Krum seemed to cause many Hogwarts students to have some sort of midlife crisis through his existence alone as they scrambled for some sort of writing material.

She wondered what that was about, but then decided she'd rather remain oblivious to avoid a mass reaction. Well... further mass reaction.

With all the schools there, Dumbledore led the school back into the Great Hall, welcoming the two schools to sit wherever they would like. Beauxbatons chose the Ravenclaw table, while Durmstrang chose the Slytherin table, to the chagrin of the other houses.

Seriously, who was this Krum kid? Was he famous or something?

The two headmasters chose their seats at the head table; she ended up directly between them, somehow.

Apparently, she's not what they expected of a Professor, for she sits down and the next thing she knows, Karkaroff is giving her a side glance, frowning. He didn't hesitate to begin his interrogation as soon as Dumbledore finished his announcements and introduced the wooden goblet of mysterious blue fire. The moment food appeared on the table, he turned his attention to her and began to speak.

"If I may be so rude as to ask, why," he pauses for dramatic effect, "is a _child_ sitting among the Professors?"

That catches the attention of some nearby teachers, Snape, Hughes, and Flitwick in particular. Snape looks amused and curious how she would respond to the barbs, Hughes is prepared to be entertained as he knows Juna's conversations can get interesting if she's in a joking mood, and Flitwick looks slightly indignant. All the Professors of Hogwarts knew not to question the girl's credibility, for she knew what she was doing in her field of expertise.

Juna turns to the man, "I am a Professor, sir, and this is the seat I have chosen to sit in." she levels her most bland stare at him, "I am Juna Elric, Hogwarts's Alchemy Professor."

"Alchemy?" the man exclaims as if the thought is most preposterous. Madame Maxime is also tuned in to the conversation now, and listens as her fellow Headmaster continues, "That was a dead art last I heard."

"Perhaps around here it is considered one. But back home, I assure you it most certainly is not."

"I see. And why would Dumbledore hire a child and not an older, more experienced alchemist?"

That question almost got a physical reaction out of her, she felt amusement rising up in her chest. Hughes, who was less reserved, laughed and responded, "That is likely because Juna here is one of the most skilled alchemists currently available. Many spend their entire lives trying to master one branch of alchemy, but Juna is skilled in multiple fields and has practiced alchemy for just about her whole life. You don't get a much better deal when it comes to teaching alchemy, for not everyone has the same specialty."

"And you are?"

"I am Maes Hughes. I am the Muggle Studies Professor." Hughes responded with his usual friendly smile plastered onto his face.

"A pleasure..." the look on his face showed that Karkaroff definitely didn't think that, "You seem to know this child."

Juna refrained from showing her thoughts, but inwardly she was growing annoyed. That was the third time the old man had called her a child in the last few minutes, and dinner had just started.

"I do know her. She's my fellow colleague, and we have known each other for a few years before we became teachers here. She knows her craft."

"Forgive me if I still have doubts."

She gave the man an unimpressed eyebrow raise, "I can not tell you how to think, but I would not be teaching if I did not know what I was doing. Please refrain from insulting my intelligence, sir."

Juna tuned out the man's indignant sputtering and turned to the giantess on her other side, "You have questions."

"Yes," her accent made understanding her a little difficult for the Alchemist, who had only been speaking the language for a few months, "I have been wondering how you would know more alchemy than someone who has practiced the art far into their elder years."

Juna contemplated the question, "I would say it's a combination of circumstances. Many alchemists don't start learning alchemy until later in their lives. My brothers and I took interest in it and began to learn the skills as soon as we learned to read. Our home held many alchemical texts, so we grew up reading from them. It is said that people learn best when they are young, and my siblings and I were prodigies in alchemy, so we learned faster than most."

"I see..." her hands were folded primly in front of her, and she looked every bit the attentive listener, "I am afraid my knowledge in Alchemy is lacking, for here it is, indeed, a dead art. Would my pupils, by any chance, be able to sit in on your classes?"

Juna thought about it, "I would not be opposed to it. However, the class is challenging and hard to follow if one doesn't understand the basics of certain concepts, and we have already learned many of these concepts in the classroom. If I may provide a packet of reference materials that could be found in the Library?"

"That is much appreciated."

The two discussed many things throughout the evening. Juna learned that Madame Maxime was very fond of the Abraixans that pulled the carriage and that she was the one to breed them. That led to a little story about how Juna had grown up in a small farming village, and how she occasionally went to her neighbor's farm with her siblings and helped care for the horses when she was little. Sometimes they would get a chance to ride them, and Ed had once flown off his horse into a haystack when the excitable creature had gotten excited and jumped over the fence into the grazing field. He wasn't hurt, thankfully, and Juna and Al hadn't let the boy live it down for weeks afterward.

When the desserts finally disappeared, the two had started a debate about whether cake or tart was better, and both were getting rather into it.

The two bid each other goodnight and went their separate ways, Maxime heading to the door to meet her pupils, and Juna joining Hughes waiting for the crowd to thin.

Hughes asked how her conversation with the headmistress went, and Juna responded, "It was nice. Madame Maxime is pleasant company."

"I noticed, that's probably the most I've heard you talk about anything other than alchemy so far around here. It's nice to see you coming out of your shell."

There was a small warmth that Juna felt when the man said that. She felt her lips twitch up into a small smile. It felt good. She wondered if this was what it was like to have a father that was there for you.

"...Thanks."

She felt the need to say it, but she could only get out the first word.

She wanted to thank him for everything; for being there when the siblings needed a place to stay that one night with McDougal, for keeping his doors open for them afterward, for being so kind to the three siblings, for inviting them to Elicia's birthday, for feeding them, for helping them when they felt down, for making sure they had a _home_.

Honestly, the man was too kind.

She remembered how one time when Ed and Al were off following a lead, she had a nightmare, more vivid and terrible than most, and she'd woken up in a haze, unsure if she was still dreaming or not. She'd just gotten out of bed, stumbling, and just felt the need to get out and find someone.

Her feet took her to the Hughes residence, and when the man saw her, he had quietly led her into the house, sat her on the couch, and gave her a cup of warm milk.** Afterward, he just sat with her, an arm wrapped protectively over her shoulders, pulling her towards him in a sideways hug. Gracia had come down a few minutes later and sat with them, running gentle fingers through silky blonde locks just like Mom had done when Juna was a little girl, and Juna cried. She sobbed, shoulders shaking and hiccups racking her small body. She cried herself to sleep and woke up the next day laying down on the couch with a warm blanket on top of her.

That was the first and only time she had broken down in front of the Hughes. She felt she encroached too much on their hospitality already. She had avoided the house for a week out of guilt before Hughes had practically begged her to come over. Elicia had been wondering where her favorite kinda-sorta-sister went.

Juna shook herself out of her thoughts and bid the man goodnight. He did the same, giving her flesh shoulder a gentle squeeze as he walked off to his room.

Juna began her own treck through the halls, walking quickly because she needed to oil her automail before bed, and there were some notes she wanted to write down before she went to bed. 'Some' meaning around half a notebook's worth.

She entered, vaguely aware that Micky had recently tidied up the room, as the desk chair was neatly pushed in, and her bedsheets didn't look clumsily made like they did when she made them this morning, and the laundry she left was now clean and likely back in the provided wardrobe.

The whole process of cleaning her automail was tedious. She had to remove the plates of metal that covered the wires, pick out any dirt that got in there, oil the joints, then oil the plating, then reattach the plates and repeat on the other limbs. The eye was the most unpleasant, as it was smaller, and she had to remove it to properly oil it. Luckily it didn't really get dirt in it when she wore her eyepatch, so it was usually just oiling on the tiny piece of metal and wires.

Afterward, she cleaned up and wrote in her notebook until the clock struck eleven, and she put the notebook away and went to sleep.

The next day was filled with excitement. Students were talking about how they entered their names in, and those ineligible were excited to see who would be picked.

She'd also caught wind of the rather remarkable beards some of the students had sprouted -apparently, the Weasly twins had Dumbledore's vote for "finest beards".

She decided it was better not to ask.

She was lucky that she was known as a strict teacher. The students in her class didn't slack on their work during the period they had her. She had handed one of the Beauxbatons girls a slip of parchment listing different references in the library along with the times she had classes as she had promised, telling her that anyone who was interested in sitting in on her class was recommended to look through the resources for some prior understanding of the subject. She also mentioned that they were free to come to her if they ever had questions or interest in pursuing the subject.

The girl thanked her and began to share the information with her fellow classmates. She provided the same offers to those of Durmstrang after gaining the permission of Karkaroff at breakfast, saying it was only fair that she shares her knowledge with any who are interested if Alchemy was really such a dead art here. He grudgingly agreed.

That afternoon twelve of the foreign students approached her and expressed their interest in sitting in on her class. She leads them to her office and handed each of them a small packet of vocabulary and practice problems to go along with their reference reading, informing them of her Saturday Study Sessions -or S.S.S.s as the students had started calling them-, and told them the three places she was usually found if they needed her: her office, the library, or Professor Hughes's classroom.

Six from Beauxbatons and six from Durmstrang. That was not a lot, but she wasn't expecting a large turnout.

The evening came quickly, and soon the goblet would be choosing its participants for the Tournament. Juna would admit she was curious who would be picked.

Dinner seemed to go slowly, but it may have just been the palpable anticipation and impatience in the air. Dumbledore seemed to be the only one unaffected by the tense air flowing through the room and took his time eating.

Finally, the time came for the goblet to choose. Everyone watched as the blue flames turned a beautiful red, spitting out a piece of parchment that Dumbledore caught.

It was Fleur Decalour, the champion of Beauxbatons. She seemed to be popular among the male population, and she looked resigned to this but kept her head up as she walked past the head table and into the side room.

Next came Durmstrang's champion, Viktor Krum. Seriously, why was everyone going so crazy about him? He looked like a good kid, if a bit grumpy, and he didn't walk with the air of someone who was important, so why did everyone here seem to almost worship him? It was like the whole Harry Potter thing she read about in the debriefing. The kid looked like your average, awkward teenager that just wanted to live life and be normal. And yet the kid was famous for his parents dying for him to live. She wondered what this Krum kid's story was.

The Hogwarts chosen champion was Cedric Diggory, who was cheered on by everyone. He was in her class and was quite nice. He was a good kid, and he was smart. She just hoped he was ready for a life-threatening tournament. Dumbledore was about to leave when the goblet turned red a fourth time, spitting out a final piece of parchment.

"... Harry Potter."

Juna's blood goes cold.

**That's it for this chapter! Don't be afraid to comment on your thoughts if you notice something you like or feel could be improved. I know the last few chapters have been slow to come, so I was trying to get this one out faster, and since I had a day off today I thought, "why not finish the chapter?" I hope you liked it, and thank you for reading!**

***: Most of this is completely thought up. However, timeline-wise, Snape was born in 1960 and became Potions Professor in 1981 after Slughorn retired. That makes him twenty-one when he takes the position. He dies in 1998 at the age of thirty-eight in book seven, so I put his age around thirty-four to thirty-five in the fourth book. The book Juna referenced was made up. I wanted him to write something informative (unlike Lockhart) before he became Professor as a way of showing credibility, so I put him down as publishing it a year before he becomes a teacher. That would make it fifteen to sixteen years old depending on the month it was published. Also, I know people call the Potions Professor title 'Potions Master', but I wanted to make them two separate things. I feel Potions Master is a title while Potions Professor is a job. I don't really know how else to explain it.**

****Juna did not inherit the same hatred of milk as Ed. She will drink it if it is offered, but it isn't her favorite drink. **


	5. Chapter 5

**Hello! I hope you enjoy the chapter!**

**Disclaimer: No. Fullmetal Alchemist and Harry Potter don't belong to me. That's that.**

**Chapter 5: Reestablishing a Shattered Friendship or Well Shit! It's Dragons!**

Harry was not ashamed to admit that he had a moment of utter panic when his name left the goblet. He hadn't put it in! How did this even happen? He didn't even _want_ to compete! He dreamed of it and imagined doing so, sure, but he wasn't crazy enough to _actually_ _try_ it! He could be an idiot, sometimes, but he wasn't that stupid! He knew he wasn't strong enough to stand a chance.

"HARRY POTTER!"

That was the third time his name had been called. Not that he knew, he'd been a little busy having a panic attack! Hermione gave him a small nudge alongside a reassuring smile that looked a little too strained and wan to be truly effective. He slowly stood and trudged up and past the teacher's table, catching their expressions. Most looked just as surprised and confused as he felt. Some looked disapproving, whether it was at him or something else, he didn't know, but he decided for once that ignorance is bliss and didn't question further.

The other headmasters looked angry, Moody was staring at him like he could see through to his soul, and Professor Elric was looking almost... contemplative as she aimed her usual bland stare at him. Dumbledore's face didn't give away a single thought. His eyes weren't twinkling, and Harry wasn't sure if that was good or bad. Probably bad.

When he finally made it to the side room, Fleur asked if they were needed back in the hall, mistaking him for a messenger. He didn't blame her, he wasn't exactly champion material, and he was underage.

Then Ludo Bagman came in with all his overabundance of energy and proclaimed him the fourth champion looking a little too gleeful for the news. Fleur believed it to be a joke, another thing he didn't blame her for; he was still having problems believing it.

Harry was feeling very uncomfortable about the attention and scrutiny he was currently under when the door opened and in came Dumbledore with the other Headmasters, and Professors Snape, Elric, McGonagall, and Moody.

The following events happened almost too quickly for him to process. Dumbledore questioned him (calmly) about whether he entered: he didn't. Karkaroff called him a liar and claimed Dumbledore was trying to give Hogwarts an advantage, Madame Maxime claimed this was all unjust, McGonagall was indignant, Snape had been surprisingly quiet (Harry would have thought the man would be all over blaming him for all of this. Maybe his efforts in Potions were finally paying off?), and Moody said whoever put his name in was trying to kill him. Joy.

Harry just wished none of this happened so he could live a relatively normal life. Screw Potter Luck! When he graduated, he'll go disappear into the woods and become a hermit or something. Maybe he can get a bunch of cats and grow up to be like old, crazy Miss Figg. Maybe not cats, though. Dogs? He liked dogs! He'll run away with Sirius and raise a bunch of dogs!

To quote the thoughts of poor, second-year Neville hanging from a certain-second-year-DADA-professor's chandelier, "Why is it always me?"

During the interaction, Professor Elric walked over to him and gave him the same look she had when he passed her mere minutes before. It was as blank as always, but he felt like he was being judged and scrutinized. It was a little unnerving, to be honest. She kept this up for about a minute, completely silent.

She opened her mouth, and as Harry thought she was going to say something encouraging and wise, she said, "You are a... trouble magnet."

"Umm... What?" he blinked. That was not what he expected.

He probably should have, remembering the "paw-sitive" and "onion" puns from earlier in the year. Those were still echoing in his head whenever he saw Crookshanks or Mrs. Norris!

"You attract trouble easier than roadkill attracts flies."

Harry isn't quite sure what to say to that. The entire analogy was rather morbid, and if it weren't so true, he probably would have felt grossed out and indignant -he _still_ felt indignant- but it was numbed by the shock from the entire "your name came out of a magic wooden cup filled with mystical blue flames despite never putting your name in so you now have to compete in a deadly tournament" thing, so forgive him for not having a sassy comeback prepared for the occasion!

"You look far too scared and confused to have done this, but what happened has happened. Stand tall or you become an easier target. There is nothing you can do, now, whether you put your name in or no, so try to make the most of it."

"Um." He wasn't sure if she was ordering him or giving advice, but the pointed look she gave him when he made that sound had him almost snapping to attention, like a soldier.

It was around this point when he also realized the two of them had gained the attention of the room. "What?" he asked before he could stop himself. Ah, he found his sass again. Welcome back, sass! Right when he didn't need it!

"What are you two talking about over there?" Moody growled suspiciously; though, at this point, Harry knew that was Moody's standard emotion.

"I am merely trying to calm Mr. Potter down." Juna responds casually, "While you all have been arguing pointlessly about him like he wasn't in the room, you failed to notice just how nervous the boy is, which I felt the need to remedy."

Some of the people had the decency to look abashed, but Karkaroff sputtered indignantly, "Pointless?! This... _boy_" he said the word like it was an insult, and he probably meant it as one, "is giving Hogwarts two chances of victory!"

Juna's expression may not have changed, but there was something that was telling the man to "back off or else", and the intensity of that stare did, indeed, cause the man to take a small step back.

"I don't think you should be the one complaining here. Hogwarts has two chances at victory. That is true, but there is also two chances of death or major injury. Mr. Potter, here, is also underage and has less experience and knowledge than the rest of the champions, making him far more likely to get hurt or killed than the others, yet I don't hear him complaining like a whiny child. As the boy didn't place his name in the goblet or have an older student do so, it is likely this entire thing was a set up like Moody said. There is nothing that can be done, now, so I recommend you... what is phrase?... deal with it, and shut up."

Well, it was put a little crudely, but Harry supposed she got her message across since Karkaroff had gone quiet. He noticed her accent had been getting more prominent lately. He wondered why.

Moody, however, remained suspicious and continued pressing, "You are hardly the type to comfort people, Elric. What were you doing?"

"I wasn't comforting him, I was trying to calm him down so he could think rationally about his situation, as there is nothing we can do about it, now. I didn't see anyone else trying to be nice, so I took it upon myself to do so, even if I'm not particularly good at it as you have oh so kindly put it."

Harry vaguely wondered if it was "Professor Elric Disrespects Authority" Day, as that was the second time she had done it in the last minute or so. Perhaps it was the weather? It was starting to get cold, and the Professor had been acting slightly grumpy lately if you knew what signs to look for. Perhaps she was a summer person? Cedric also seemed to notice the increase in sass and began to look nervous. It made sense, he also had her as a professor, and grumpy professors were never fun. Grumpy Professor Elrics talked more briskly and took points more easily, and had a bad habit of being sarcastic -well... more sarcastic than usual, at least- when a stupid question was asked.

Dumbledore also seemed to be catching on to the change in behavior and was quick to finish up the little... Harry wasn't sure what to call it; he'll just call it a meeting for now. The professors took their leave, the foreign headmasters taking their champions with them.

Meanwhile, Professor Elric took the liberty of returning Harry and Cedric to their common rooms, as Dumbledore had gone to discuss things with McGonagall and Snape and Moody, an obvious dismissal of the Alchemy Professor.

"So..." Cedric began, a little nervously due to the awkward silence they'd been walking in, "How did you do it?"

"I didn't," Harry stated, too tired to be more emotional than a teaspoon.

"Oh. Sorry."

"What for?"

"Assuming after that whole mess."

"Apology accepted."

Cedric gave him a wry smile, they had reached the location of the Hufflepuff common room, "Well, then. Good luck, Harry."

Harry was now left in the silence of Professor Elric's company.

Juna had no clue how to break the awkward quiet that settled over the two of them. She may have him in class, but he was a quieter student. He participated occasionally, but oftentimes he blended into the background with all the others. He wasn't an outstanding student by any means -he did seem to be grasping the concepts quicker than most, though; perhaps he had some prior knowledge? The most she ever really heard about him was during teacher meetings when his rising grades became noticed. Apparently the prior three years he had been a bit of a poor student, or perhaps he just hadn't had any remarkable academic achievements? She knew he participated in Quidditch -such an odd sport-, and that was simply because she had passed the trophy room and saw his name on the Gryffindor Team's name plaque since the House Cup was canceled due to the Tournament. Apparently they had won the House Cup or something along those lines, she hadn't paid much attention.

Oh, there was something Maes had told her, wasn't there? He had another hobby.

"I hear you enjoy drawing," she commented out of the blue, causing him to startle.

"Oh. Um. Yeah. Um... who... told you?" he stuttered out awkwardly.

"Maes told me."

"Professor Hughes?"

"Yes." she thought for a moment, "What do you draw?"

Harry thought for a moment, "Um..."

"I believe we have had this conversation before. I am not going to bite. Just answer the question."

"Right. Sorry. I mostly draw things revolving around Hogwarts. I didn't really get a chance to enjoy drawing until I came here...yeah."

She felt there was something off about his words, but she wasn't sure if that was her English talking or if he actually had some sort of other meaning behind the words, "I see. How are your skills in drawing geometric shapes?"

"Shapes? Um... average? Circles are pretty hard to draw, though I feel most have trouble with that?" it came out as more of a question.

"Work on that."

"What?"

"Work on drawing circles and other shapes without stencils or something round to outline. It will benefit you in my class when things become more practical. It is something I plan to tell the classes at their next lessons."

"Oh." Harry found himself surprised, he never expected Professor Elric of all people to just up and give advice out of nowhere. She seemed the type to keep to herself more. He was willing to bet she didn't interact with others much besides lecturing about Alchemy, which wasn't as surprising as he'd originally thought it was. Despite being generally quiet, she seemed very passionate about the subject, even if it wasn't as visible as Mr. Weasley was about muggles and their technology.

"Is this your Common Room entrance?"

Harry started again, not realizing that he was so lost in his thoughts that they'd already reached the portrait of the Fat Lady.

He nodded, ears turning red in embarrassment at spacing out, muttering out the password as Professor Elric walked away, her footsteps almost echoing in the silent hallway. A part of him felt like there was something off about her steps, but he was too exhausted with the day's excitement to care at the moment.

The portrait opened to reveal a crazy party going strong. Apparently Fred and Geroge had managed to raid the kitchens and brought back a second feast. Harry was too done with the day to care and forced his way through the crowd, not acknowledging anyone until he finally reached his shared dorm room.

That was where he found Ron, stewing in jealousy and anger.

How dare he ask him "How did you do it?" They may have grown apart, but he thought Ron knew him better than that! He explicitly told Ron at the start of the year that he didn't want fame or glory. Why was the redhead unable to see this now?

The argument only escalated, until eventually, the two broke the string of friendship that had gradually weakened over time.

A part of Harry couldn't help but regret; that part remembered the crazy adventures they had together, but the currently dominant, stubborn part always shut that side down, "Is he really worth it? He betrayed you! He won't see Harry, Just Harry, so why try to convince him?"

It amazed him how far apart they drifted without even realizing it. It happened so naturally that they didn't notice until it was too late.

It scared him how easily a friendship could break, how easily _trust_ could break.

Would he lose Hermione, too? Neville? The Twins? The thought of being left alone terrified him, bringing him back to the cupboard under the stairs and Harry Hunting. The people he met at Hogwarts weren't just his friends, they were family! They were his family like Hogwarts was his home!

Harry didn't sleep well at all that night.

That was not a very good thing, as the next day, he seemed to have become the school pariah, and his mood was already shattered to bits before he arrived at breakfast.

The only consolation he got was that Hermione and Neville understood him, and tried to cheer him up, unlike the rest of Gryffindor that seemed to think he was this crazy badass that somehow managed to get past the age line.

The twins got the message that Harry wasn't, in fact, happy with his new title as champion after a glare from Hermione. Their reaction was to prank him at various points throughout the day, something that was met with varied reactions from disgruntlement, annoyance, to a jelly leg jinx in their direction. He felt a slight vindictive pleasure when they squawked and fell to the floor in a pile of tangled limbs and robes. He almost chuckled. Almost, he was still in a very bad mood.

Another thing was that the professors didn't treat him any differently. Thank all that is holy for small mercies. Most were working double-time to try and keep the students calm during classes since everyone was so excited about the Tournament, the foreign schools, and Krum.

That didn't mean time between classes wasn't absolutely miserable. Most of the Slytherins were now wearing badges that said "Potter Stinks" on them, and every time a teacher passed, they simply pushed the pin so it said, "Support Cedric Diggory" instead. They couldn't tell the students off if they were just showing support for their school, right?

The Slytherins in the little study group stayed neutral, though. They apparently decided that it was better to avoid trouble altogether.

Harry wasn't sure if that was a sign of their support or a backhanded compliment calling him a troublemaker. He wouldn't blame them if it was the second one. He really was a trouble magnet.

He was grateful there were people that weren't out to get him, though, so he made sure to make that gratitude known.

However, as his relationships with those that didn't shun him increased, his relationship with Ron went even further into the sewers. At first, they just avoided each other. However, with the stress that Harry was under with the bullying and the entire Tournament, the two began to snap irritably at each other when they were nearby. Then the snaps became arguments, and those arguments escalated in severity until one day everything simply snapped.

It happened during dinner, on a Friday about two weeks after the Choosing of the Champions. Harry walked in with the study group, as they had quickly gone to the library together to check out some reference materials for Alchemy before going to dinner when he heard Ron mutter something in the newly silenced Hall.

"Not only is he a glory hog, but he's also hanging with Slimy Snakes."

That did it. Before he could stop himself, his snarky mouth opened wide, "I've told you millions of times. I. Didn't. Put. My. Name. In. And last I checked, _Ronald_ the rules didn't forbid friendships from other Houses, so shove off!"

Then, as if his mouth and brain forgot to coordinate, they probably did, he continued with one final moment of sass and sarcasm, "And snakes are not slimy, _genius_; they're reptiles. They're scaley, so that insult is stupid and makes no sense."

The three Slytherins standing next to him looked divided between feeling touched that Harry stood up for them and indignant at being called "Scaley". It was better than "Slimy", though, so they wouldn't prank him into oblivion.

This time.

Ron's face was turning as red as his hair, maybe redder. And with a roar of anger, he lunged at Harry, barreling into him and sending the two to the floor.

The two grappled and rolled along the floor of the Hall, yelling insults at each other and trying to land a hit -earning both sides a few bruises-, and it was drawing a crowd. Some of the muggle-borns were shouting, "Fight! Fight! Fight!" and making bets, but it didn't last long.

There was a roar coming from the door of the Hall, and it quieted the entire Hall.

"THAT IS ENOUGH!"

Even Dumbledore almost scrambled to attention at the sound of that angry cry. The mob quickly broke up, most running back to their seats like dogs with their tails between their legs. Some froze in fear, as that cry terrified them more than anything they ever heard before.

It even sent Harry and Ron apart, though they were still glaring at each other on the ground.

Everyone who hadn't already taken the time to see who made such a terrible cry did so then.

It was Professor Hughes, and he did not look happy.

As he wasn't on crutches anymore, he was now able to stand to his full height, and he cut an imposing figure in the Great Hall's doorway. Rather terrifying, too.

He strode over to the two Gryffindors and stared down at them with narrowed eyes. Harry noticed they were no longer the same cheery, hazel eyes he'd seen when showing the man his sketchbook. These eyes were cold, dark, and disapproving and held a wave of repressed anger that had Harry gulping and paling in fear. His lips were drawn into a frown, and his eyebrows were furrowed, giving him a fierce look that his earlier cheerful disposition hid.

"What is going on here?" he asked, his voice echoing in Harry's mind despite it being no louder than a murmur.

"Umm..." he began, not quite sure what to say. For once, his big mouth stayed quiet, and it was the moment he actually wanted it to work.

Ron was also quiet, though he looked like he wouldn't be able to make anything more than a whimper. He looked thoroughly cowed by the Muggle Studies Professor before him.

"The two of you will come with me, and we will be having a talk about proper behavior for your age." the man said, his voice deceptively calm, he turned to the rest of the Hall, "Well? what are you looking at?" he asked, his voice at a normal level. Everyone returned to their meal. They only had ten minutes left to finish eating before they had to get to their final class*. Professor Hughes led the two off, turning back at the door to call, "Juna, can you watch my last class of the day after dinner? You know the lesson plan, and this will probably take some time."

The girl nodded before returning to her meal as if nothing happened.

Hughes led the two by the shoulder once they left the hall until they reached the man's office. He led them in and sat them down at a table before pushing out his own chair to do the same. The room was silent for a minute as Hughes rubbed his temples, looking tired and like he didn't know what to do with the two of them.

In the distance the bell rang, signaling the end of dinner.

He reset his gaze upon them, staring silently for a long moment before he straightened and clapped, causing them to almost instinctively snap to attention.

"Are you two aware of what you did today?"

They remain quiet, ironically feeling too afraid to speak up. So much for Gryffindor courage. It didn't exactly get you out of detention.

"You two caused a scene in the middle of the Great Hall, in the presence of not one, but two foreign schools, who are looking at you as students of Hogwarts, and what do you think they are thinking as they watch you?"

Harry opens his mouth nervously, "That... we're barbaric?"

"Close. They are looking at the two of you, and they think, 'Hogwarts lets its students get away with this?' Those schools are looking at you to understand what Hogwarts is like. Hogwarts is considered by most to be a place full of opportunity, learning, and students striving to achieve their dreams. Is that an image you two set by rolling around like fools over who-knows-what?" his accent was getting more prominent as he spoke, the only thing in his deceptively calm voice that gave away his true ire.

"No, sir." Harry and Ron muttered. They looked thoroughly reprimanded, but Hughes wasn't finished.

"That's right. No. You embarrassed not only yourselves but also Dumbledore, the Professors, and the entire school by acting so immaturely! You are lucky I decided to step in instead of someone like Severus. He'd be far less lenient, and would likely have assigned you to weeks of cleaning cauldrons and a bunch of lost House points."

The man heaved a heavy sigh, running his hand through his hair.

"I may not have the two of you in my class, but I would have to be blind to not see the drastic change in your relationship. When I first saw you two, you were getting along splendidly, but now it's like you two have become enemies almost overnight. This will end today, and I'm going to at least make sure the two of you leave as civil acquaintances if nothing else. Am I understood?"

Silence.

"Am. I. Understood?" his voice becomes more irritated.

"Y-yes, sir." Harry stutters out nervously, still sitting up stiff and straight as a wall.

"Y-y-yessir," Ron mutters, curling in on himself in fear of the man that he was at the mercy of.

"Good." The man gave a small smile that didn't quite reach his eyes, "Now, I would like some explanation as to what caused this... I believe the word is animosity."

The two students began to talk over each other, trying to get their voice heard. He stopped them, "One at a time. Ron, why don't you start first."

"This, git put his name into the goblet and never even told me, his best friend, that he was going to or how he did it!" the redhead cried out, pointing at Harry.

"I've already told you, Ron! I. Didn't. Put. My. Name. In!" Harry exclaimed, "I was entered against my will! I told you I didn't want this at the start of the year!"

They began to argue again, forgetting about the higher presence in the room.

Meanwhile, Hughes watched carefully, examining the two's actions more closely before he once again clapped his hands to get their attention. They started and turned to look sheepishly at him.

He was suddenly glad the Elrics were rubbing off on him. Their whole clap-to-use-alchemy thing was also perfect for grabbing people's attention.

His eyes flickered between the two boys, "I think I am starting to understand what the problems are here. Mr. Weasley, you are upset that Mr. Potter got into the Tournament and never told you he entered. Meanwhile, you, Mr. Potter, are upset because you didn't actually enter, but everyone won't believe you, and instead turn against you."

They open their mouths to protest.

"I wasn't finished speaking." he snaps, causing their mouths to snap shut quickly, "I believe that this entire event was caused by negative feelings blocking your rational thinking. Mr. Weasley, let's think for a moment. You know Mr. Potter is underage, so he couldn't get past the age line. He also never asked an older student to do it for him. Had he managed to get past the age line, I'm sure he would have been in the hospital wing with a beard like your brother and the others that attempted it while being underage, and he still wouldn't have gotten his name in, either. Thus, Harry is, in fact, telling the truth and was forced into the Tournament against his will, and from what I've managed to catch, he's not exactly getting any good attention for the situation, quite the opposite, actually. I can't force you to change, but I recommend you consider this and look around you before falling into jealousy."

The redhead frowned, feeling slightly miffed, but there was now a barely noticeable hint of thoughtfulness in his eyes. He was following Hughe's directions and pausing to think.

"Mr. Potter, you may not be in the Tournament willingly, but you still aren't acting appropriately, either. You aren't doing anything by just taking the bullying and staying silent before exploding when everything finally adds up. If you are being harassed over something, the proper reaction is to tell a Professor or authority figure, not to blow up in the middle of the Great Hall. Wallowing in self-pity won't do you any good, either, as I am sure Juna has told you already, so I recommend that you calm yourself and remember that you are not alone. You have friends who support you, and we teachers will do what we can to make sure you have a good education and experience while in our school. While taking matters into your own hands is admirable, you shouldn't take so much that you are... what is phrase... dragging yourself and others down."

Harry looked down, feeling guilty now that his adrenaline high finally left him. He caught Ron staring at him from the corner of his eye, frowning.

"Now," Hughes clapped again, causing the two students to jump. That was surprisingly satisfying to do, he thought, "I can't force you two to be friends again, but I would like to hear the two of you apologize to each other. You both treated this situation in ways that are less than stellar, so don't try to get out of this. You are both partially responsible for the situation. You should each also write a letter of apology to all three Headmasters, and I think... detention with me every night after dinner during the weekend and twenty points from Gryffindor for improper behavior. Am I clear?"

They nod silently.

"That is good." he smiles, "I expect you to deliver the letters by the end of the weekend, or I will personally supervise your writing of them. You may utilize the detention time to do so, as well. Am I still clear?"

They nod again.

"You are dismissed. I recommend getting some of your work finished, as letters of apology are never easy to write, and it can take time to get the best words. I shall see you tomorrow after dinner."

The gleam in his eye and the way he said it made Harry wonder if there was a more personal meaning to what the Professor said, but brushed it off, as he was tired and needed to get his homework done.

He and Ron stood at the same time, almost out of habit. They stared at each other for a moment before walking out silently. When they left, the lesson was still going on, and they had the pleasure of seeing Professor Elric explain the workings of a cassette tape to a bunch of NEWT level students. She was being quite thorough, and Harry had a moment to admire how much she knew before his mind finally made a connection he'd been missing for weeks.

She wore muggle clothes and assisted Professor Hughes in teaching his class during the time of his recovery. It was possible she either lived in the muggle world or spent large amounts of time in it at a time! He felt a little stupid for not realizing that earlier.

Some students turned to watch them leave, causing the two to feel a little uncomfortable from the extra attention.

At that moment, she turned back, "I don't believe Messrs. Potter and Weasley are the focus of the lesson. Please pay attention, as I will take points, unlike my colleague."

Those that were staring jumped and reddened sheepishly before returning their attention to the board.

The two returned to their Common Room in silence, not saying a word until they reached the Fat Lady's Portrait.

"...Harry?"

The sudden sound caused Harry to startle, he jumped almost a meter into the air before he realized it was just Ron, "What?"

The redhead looked slightly uncomfortable like he wasn't sure what to do with himself, "Umm... I..." he breathed. In. Out. Huff. "I'm terrible at this. Look. I'm... sorry. I've been a huge git to you for the past few weeks, and I let myself get blinded by just how... _mad_ I was. I felt betrayed, and... and I know it's not worth much, but... I'm sorry, anyway."

He was flushed about as red as his hair now, and not in anger like back at the Great Hall, "Blimey, I sound like an idiot." he muttered.

Harry remained silent for a moment, processing the info, "Ron..." he took a deep breath, "You're not the only one that sucks at this. I didn't consider how you could be feeling, so... I'm also at fault... I'm sorry, too. I... I don't know if I can fully forgive you right away, but I'll try and be... better." his gaze gained a determined light, "I just want you to know, though, that I won't stop hanging out with my new friends just because you don't like them. They've been nice to me since the start of the year, and I think it's genuine. You'll probably have to apologize to them if you want to be included in our study group."

Ron bit his lip nervously, "I'm... not sure. This goes against everything I've ever been told since I was able to understand words, Harry. I've always been told that Slytherins should be avoided. I do want to be your friend, it's just that I... don't know if I'm ready to do something like... well... that."

Harry stared at Ron, then nodded, "Take your time. I'd recommend apologizing sooner rather than later, though. Slytherins can hold a grudge." he smirked wryly, recalling how Blaise was still holding a prank Harry pulled on him over his head; it was all in good fun, though, so the whole thing was rather lighthearted.

No more words were spoken besides the password to the Fat Lady's Portrait. They just went their separate ways and began to work on their work, Ron deciding to be productive for once and actually finishing his Charms essay at a reasonable time.

The detention on Saturday was rather tame compared to most. Professor Hughes allowed them to work on their apology letters during the detention, and they both managed to finish the apologies to the foreign Headmasters before the end of the two hour period. Harry was also almost finished with his apology to Dumbledore, and Ron was approximately half-way through his, so Professor Hughes was kind enough to let them stay for a little longer to finish the letters up to send them.

Sunday detention was spent studying and working on homework.

Monday came, and Harry could safely say he and Ron could be called friends again. Ron had approached the three Slytherins and apologized to them after dinner, though he and Malfoy were both visibly uncomfortable about the entire event. They accepted his apology on the condition he would refrain from insulting them. They would do the same for him as long as he kept his side of the bargain.

The redhead accepted; however, he wasn't quite comfortable enough to join them in their study group, yet. That would probably take a lot of time to really accept, and Harry decided it was better not to push him.

Now came the focus on schoolwork. He paid extra attention in class, trying to think of anything that could help him in the Tournament.

The weighing of the wands came and went, and Harry was still not sure what the task was. It was very nerve-wracking.

The invitation from Hagrid solved that mystery, however. The first thought he had when he saw Hagrid leading Madame Maxime into the forest was, "What are you doing? She'll just tell Fleur whatever she sees!"

The next was, "Well, shit! It's dragons! I'll die facing a giant fire-breathing reptile! No. Worse. I'll die in _front_ _of_ _an_ _audience_!"

He really needed to straighten out his priorities.

He escaped and found a way to warn Cedric, as he'd run into Karkaroff spying and realized that all the champions would know besides the Hufflepuff representative of Hogwarts if he remained silent of his knowledge.

Now he just had to figure out how to fight a dragon! Brilliant!

This day was going to be fun~! Note the sarcasm.

**Omake: Don't Forget 3 Oct 11**

It was dark. All students and teachers have settled down to sleep, and the ghosts have all congregated in their "living" quarters to waste away the night.

It was only a few hours later that Juna woke up with a strangled cry. Her skin was pale and clammy; her limbs were stiff and trembling; her lone eye was wide and terrified.

The first thing she noticed was that it was still dark out; it was only one in the morning.

She didn't care. She needed to _move_, get out, get air, get comfort, get something!

In her daze, her body moved on its own stumbling out of her bed, getting the tangled sheets all over the floor. She almost tripped three times over the giant quilt before she managed to escape the clutches of the colorful fabric and reach her bedroom door.

She hadn't even bothered to put on a robe, leaving her in her baggy shirt and shorts.

She navigated out of her office and through the halls through sheer muscle memory, her mind still in a disorderly haze. If anyone saw her, they would wonder if this was the same calm, collected professor they knew. She was lucky all the paintings were asleep, or the gossip would be all over the school.

Her feet took her to the classroom of her fellow colleague and pseudo-father-figure, where she entered with the grace of an earthquake and knocked on the door of his quarters.

No response. She knocked harder and longer.

"Hu~zzat?" a groggy voice asked, irritated at being awoken. Hughes scrambled up clumsily into a half-sitting position to check the time; it was one-fifteen in the morning.

The knocking came back, and he groaned, lumbering out of bed with the coordination of a bear coming out of hibernation, almost knocking his knee against a chair he forgot to push in. He makes it to the door with a snarky comment on his lips, only to see Juna standing there, swaying and disoriented and scared.

The comment dies on his lips, and his expression grows serious with a soft undertone. He leads her in with a strong arm around her narrow shoulders. Her fleshy shoulder was feeling bonier than usual; she wasn't eating enough, he realized. Now that he thought about it, she had been picking at her food and skipping meals for the past week or so.

He led her to the couch and sat her down as he had in his own home.

He called on Leechee, his house-elf, to get a cup of warm milk before he turned his attention back to Juna. This time he got a better look at her.

She looked terrible. Her hair was a mess, her skin was paper-white and sweaty, and her eye was wide and haunted. Her automail was visible to the world. She was trembling, her breathing was fast and shallow. She looked like a child who had gone through too much in too little time.

Hughes quickly picked up the mug of milk that had just arrived and placed it in her hands, coaxing her to drink it. She took a sip. He sat down next to her.

His mind, still foggy from sleep, was trying to remember if there was a reason for this behavior. His eyes roamed the room for a clue until they came to the calendar.

October 3rd.

Oh.

Her nightmares were always the most vivid on October 3rd. Her brothers, too, but they usually had each other, even if they were traveling in some remote area of the world. Juna always stayed back and researched from the Central Databases, searching for leads in old, worn-out journals and newspaper clippings while her brothers followed them in search of a task most would call impossible.

That meant she was alone to deal with her night terrors. She didn't have her brothers by her side 24/7, so she was forced to find alternatives. Alternative number one was Hughes. Number two and three were Hawkeye and Mustang respectively, not that she ever told people, it had just become a part of life at Central.

He pulled her close gently in a sideways hug, telling her to let it out. She must have been bottling up her emotions again, likely leading to her decline in health over the last week.

Hughes was starting to wonder if Elric Stubbornness was genetic. Ed had it in spades, likely the reason he was still alive to show it off. Al had it, too, though it was mellowed out by his gentler attitude. The three would keep going and going and going, pushing themselves far past their physical, mental, and emotional limits before they finally realized they needed help and broke apart into little puzzle pieces in need of being but together again.

Today, it was Juna's turn it seemed.

A tear slid down her cheek, then another, and another before she was outright sobbing, clutching to him like a little monkey and covering his shirt with tears. Her breath came in hiccuping gasps that shook her shoulders between whines and sobs that clogged her throat. Hughes just sat there and ran a gentle, calloused hand through gold strands, untangling the knots and helping to calm the child, for that's what she was, a child. No matter how mature she acted for her age, she was still a sixteen-year-old girl with her own problems and fears.

He wished Gracia and Elicia were here. The love of his life and his sweet little angle. They were always an amazing help in calming the girl down. Elicia sat in her lap, acting like a cute, cuddly teddy bear, and Gracia would flank her on her other side and would rub her shoulders and whisper gentle, soothing words into her ear.

The two sat on the couch for what seemed like ages, Juna's cries were the only sound in the room, but they were quieting down. They got quieter and quieter until they became a sniffle, then silence.

Hughes braved looking to see that the Alchemist had cried herself to sleep.

The man smiled fondly, she looked her age, now. Even if the reason wasn't a pleasant one, it was nice to know the girl was still capable of being a child, if only for a day.

He detached himself gently from her and called Leechee to take her back to her room, making sure the elf swore to never tell anyone about her metal limbs.

They were lucky they both didn't have a morning class the next day, for Hughes had overslept, and Juna had simply not woken up until dinner. Proof of her not sleeping lately.

Hughes had been kind and subbed for her that day, saying that she had been feeling under the weather and needed to rest.

The final class, which was right before dinner, heard her wake up, and they were lucky she was still disoriented enough to have been speaking Amestrian when she saw the time.

Hughes, however, understood every word she said and blanched.

He didn't translate; those words she screeched in panic would put sailors to shame. He went up to calm her down, telling the students to study for the test he knew they had in their next class with the Professor. The day was originally going to be a review day for them, anyway, as the class had been a little ahead and earned the class period to study.

Whatever she had screeched that day became one of Hogwart's many mysteries; however, some weren't sure they wanted to know. Most were just surprised to hear that Professor Elric could react in such a way to anything, for her stoicism was infamous among the school by this point.

**That's that! I hope you enjoyed this chapter. I was feeling very snarky when I wrote this, so it came out looking a bit... sarcastic... at certain points. I'd been watching a video about Daniel Radcliffe being sassy for three minutes straight and just had to add a bunch of sass and sarcasm. I didn't have the heart to remove it, so it's there to stay.**

***According to the Harry Potter Lexicon, Students are required to go to their Common Rooms after dinner, but I wanted to change this up a bit, so I put one "class" after dinner exclusively for NEWT students to help prepare them for their NEWT testing. This would be for NEWT level students ONLY to come in for extra tutoring. Basically it's like extra help for the NEWT students. It works something like this: **

**-Each teacher would name two days of the week that they would hold this extra "class" for one hour after dinner. These choices are listed in the school schedule.**

**-The NEWT students are able to choose each day among the available "classes" who to go to, so long as that class is in their schedule. So if Snape chose to have a "class" on Thursday and Friday, and Flitwick had Tuesday and Thursday, and McGonagall had Tuesday and Friday, on Tuesday, the NEWT students could choose whether to go to Flitwick or McGonagall's tutoring sessions; on Thursday the options would be Flitwick and Snape, and Friday, the options would be Snape and McGonagall.**

**As usual, if you enjoy like/follow and review! I like feedback, if there was something that didn't make sense or if there was something you liked/didn't like, I want to know so I can figure out future chapters. A story is only considered "good" if the audience thinks so, and while I don't do this for anything other than fun, I don't want to write a bad story.**

**Also, I hope Juna doesn't look too out of place. OC stories aren't easy to write well. If you emphasize the OC too much, the fandom/s disappear and you lose the story (if that made any sense), if you don't emphasize the OC enough, then what is the point of having an OC in the first place? Then there are mary sues, which I sincerely hope I avoid making. I have more experience making OCs now than I did when I was younger, and with the help of my brother, I managed to at least be able to self-check if the character is too much. Feel free to mention if there is anything you feel could be improved. **


	6. Chapter 6

**I'm so sorry about the extreme time gap! I have been caught up in school lately and this became one of the things in the back of my mind. Now the coronavirus is everywhere and one of the only topics of discussion (I hope everyone is safe and healthy, by the way, and if you're not, I hope you have a swift recovery) and school isn't the only thing that's crazy, anymore.**

**No use crying over spilled milk, though. I hope you enjoy this chapter! As usual, anything I feel needs explanation will be explained at the end in the author's notes.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist or Harry Potter in any way, shape, or form. Nuff said.**

**Chapter 6: The First Task and The Yule Ball or Dangerous Flying Reptiles Should Not Be Used For Entertainment!**

The day of the first task, November 24, came with all the subtlety of a wrecking ball.

Harry sat in the Great Hall, nervously picking at his food with the knowledge that soon he would be facing a full-grown, nesting, mama-dragon that may or may not want to rip him to shreds on sight.

Fun...

Not!

"You need to eat something, Harry!" Hermione fussed, staring at the untouched eggs and toast sitting on his plate.

"I know..." he mumbled, but the food remained as untouched as it was five seconds ago.

The bookworm huffed and gave him a glare that Harry momentarily compared to that of Mrs. Weasley before he took a bite to appease her. As he did so, he maintained eye-contact with a dull expression as if to say "Are you happy, now?". The food, usually divine on his deprived tongue, tasted like cardboard and sunk heavily into his stomach like a stone. His nerves were running higher than they had when he had his first Quidditch game in his first year, and _that_ was saying something.

That was to be expected, though. He was about to look a mama dragon in the eye, say "screw you", and try to survive!

"Calm down, mate." Ron said; though, through the mouthful of oatmeal it sounded more like, "khal dhowu ha'y".

Hermione slapped the redhead on the arm, "Don't talk with your mouth full, Ronald!"

Gulping down another mouthful, Ron repeated what he said, waving his fork lazily around in the air, "Calm down, mate. You'll be fine. I did not spend weeks stressing over a summoning charm with you just to see you doubt yourself now!"

Harry smiled, "Right. Sorry." He took a deep breath. In. Hold. Out. Then, he took another bite of eggs; it no longer tasted like nothing.

Neville, who sat directly across from the trio, leaned in with a shy smile, "Good luck, Harry. I'm sure you'll do fine."

Harry's smile widened a bit, "Thanks, Nevile. I think I needed that."

Nevile gave a nod and returned his attention to his own plate of eggs. His eyes were roaming over a Herbology text he'd recently acquired.

Another breath, another bite. Harry really hoped the plan they had practiced would work. If not, he'd be sent flying (pun intended, I regret nothing) in all the wrong ways, and that wouldn't be any good. He still needed to finish his Alchemy homework, and he can't do that while in the hospital wing.

...

Juna was honestly caught off guard by just how loud the arena was. She knew there were a lot of people at the school, but even in the Great Hall the only times it got really loud were at the beginning of the year and when the foreign schools were being welcomed. Otherwise, people were focused on their friend groups and their food, so things rarely got too loud.

Now, it was like the population of the school had multiplied by three, and everyone was screaming at the top of their lungs in an attempt to out-screech the person next to them.

It was torture. Juna wanted to return to her quiet room where her beloved research notes lay on her table waiting to be filled with her slightly-above-illegible handwriting. Unfortunately, as a professor, her attendance in such school events was mandatory, so there was no escape from inevitable deafness.

Even the earplugs she transmuted from the edges of her coat were near useless in the face of such noise.

Hughes watched her from the corner of his eye, and he looked far too amused for the occasion in her opinion. She was very tempted to transmute a ditch for him to fall into but restrained herself for the sake of not giving him more injuries after he'd just recently gotten past a major point in his recovery.

He was working on endurance, now. He could walk around the castle with ease, but he tired quickly, and he still struggled with lifting things over twenty kilograms.

She'd take what she could get, though. Hughes had come a long way from when she'd first seen him again.

Physically.

Mentally, she wasn't so sure. Hughes hadn't been acting himself at all. He never randomly changed the topic to his family, and he'd lost a lot of the excitable aura that used to follow him wherever he went. She also had a feeling Hughes hadn't written to Gracia and Elicia yet; though, she couldn't prove it, yet.

It was painful to watch. She wanted to find out what was wrong, but she was clueless about how to do it. She's not the social one of the family. Al is. Mom was.

Juna quickly rid her mind of that topic before she went too deep.

She discretely pulled her coat closer to her and tried not to shiver. The three extra layers she wore did absolutely nothing good for her mobility, but she couldn't risk getting frostbite because of her automail ports, especially with the sort of cold, wet weather she was currently experiencing. She winced as the crowd's volume increased again.

It seemed Cedric would be going first. Her eye drifted to his opponent.

The dragon was huge. Intimidating. It looked like it wouldn't hesitate to kill the Hufflepuff and swallow him whole.

She didn't mean to swear, but what the _fuck_ was that kind of creature doing in a school tournament? Emphasis on _school!_

Cedric looked paler than usual, and he was likely terrified -she didn't blame him-, but he took a deep breath and...

Transfigured a rock into a dog.

Juna blinked; her fingers twitched as she restrained herself from searching for a Stone. She would never get used to the lack of equivalent exchange. That would not be possible in Alchemy unless there was a Philosopher's Stone involved, and even then, she doubted it would be something people would use the Stone's properties for.

Who just thought, "Hey! I'm feeling lonely and want a dog! Oh, a nice old rock? You'll make a _perfect_ little McFluffer!"

Seriously, who thought of that?! Wizards, apparently.

The dog was cute, though, and it likely looked like a tasty snack to the dragon, whose attention was now solely focused on the poor quadruped. Juna felt bad for it but remained silent for the time being. Ludo Bagman had no qualms about volume, though, and proceeded to yell out the commentary with his amplified voice, much to her continued irritation. The blonde was half-way tempted to go over and rip out his vocal cords so her poor ears could catch a break.

Woah! Calm down, Juna! Deep breaths. In... Out...

As she watched the dog bound about energetically, Juna recalled she still needed to ask Minerva her questions from Mustang's office and decided she would do that at some point during her next free period.

The girl noticed Cedric sneaking around, trying to keep the focus on the dog and not him. It was a simple, but clever plan; she wouldn't deny that even if she wasn't fond of Transfiguration due to the differing values of the trade.

The boy had been doing well, but it seemed it wasn't going to last. The dragon had grown bored of chasing McFluffles around and had set her sights on Cedric, who was now next to the nest, and the bigger threat than the cute, non-threatening dog. Cedric grabbed something from the nest: a golden egg, right as the dragon sent a lick of flames in his direction. He dodged, likely out of reflex rather than skill as it was rather poorly done.

He rushed out of the arena with a couple of burns for his troubles. She applauded politely.

The champion for Beauxbatons, Fleur, was next. She had a radically different approach to her dragon, but it can be just as clever if done right. She sang a lullaby, and like Cedric, the plan worked.

Mostly.

The hitch came when the dragon snored, and in a move almost worthy of being called comedic -had this not been a deadly tournament, it certainly would have been- the snort set the girl's skirt on fire. Fleur spent a moment panicking and spraying water from the end of her wand over her skirt before the fire went out and she proceeded with her plan. Afterward, things went unhindered, and Fleur left the arena with the golden egg and some singed clothes.

Juna's worries about giant flying reptiles weren't appeased.

Krum took a much more direct approach and used a curse targeting the eyes of his dragon. She'd heard from Hagrid, who'd once mentioned his passion for the giant reptile to her over dinner, that the eyes were a vulnerable spot because they didn't have the magic-resistant hide to constantly cover them. It was once again a smart move, though, it was far from totally moral. Some of the real eggs were crushed in the mother dragon's panic, and Juna felt a moment of sympathy for the mother. She'd just lost some potential babies to a pointless contest. She also understood what it was like to lose sight, even if it was only in one eye.

The automail eye was nice, but it wasn't like other eyes. It had a heat sensor that sent signals to her brain allowing her to "see" heat. It couldn't make out shapes and details like her regular eye, so she tended to keep it closed to avoid confusion or migraines. The exceptions would be when looking for things or people in the dark, as it provided a decent enough substitute for night-vision.

She ran her finger over said prosthetic which caught Hughes's attention for a moment before he returned his eyes to the arena before him. The man reached over and gave her fleshy shoulder a comforting squeeze.

Krum, like the two before him, continued on and retrieved his golden egg before leaving the arena as quickly as possible like the two before him.

This whole tournament was starting to look like a comparison in how the schools taught their students. Hogwarts looked for creativity, Beauxbatons looked for sophistication and elegance, and Durmstrang looked for power. She wondered what Harry would do.

Juna observed as the youngest champion walked out. He looked restless and pale, but oddly calm or detached; he was likely feeling an adrenaline rush. She knew the feeling well enough; being left on a deserted island for a month did that to you, and she did get into her fair share of fights as part of the military despite the fact her focus stayed firmly on research. She watched as he pulled out his wand and cried something she wasn't quite sure of the meaning, and waited.

She spotted something coming out of the corner of her eye and turned to see what it was.

It was a broom.

She saw Harry jump onto it, and watched as he performed some extreme aerial acrobatics that would have really shocked her if she hadn't spent the last three months surrounded by magic. She was impressed, though.

Harry had gotten the egg in record time, and she once again clapped politely, wincing as the crowd seemed to get even louder. She wasn't sure how it was possible, but it happened, and she hoped she wouldn't be dealing with hearing loss anytime soon.

Juna also concluded that the magical people were crazy. Why else would giant, fire-breathing reptiles be used as entertainment in a school tournament when they have been labeled as some of the most dangerous creatures in the magical world? She'd done her research when Hagrid had accidentally let slip his knowledge of the first task, and she had a feeling whoever organized this Tournament hadn't thought things through or had done so while severely drunk or high.

Then again, she was a state alchemist, and she didn't have much room to judge about safety, especially after what she and her brothers did.

She felt a hand land on her flesh shoulder, and she turned to see Hughes grinning like a child on their birthday. His eyes, however, sent her a message that said he wanted to talk.

"That was definitely an interesting show," he called into her ear, as a quieter sound would not make it to her coherently. He took the lead through the crowded bleachers, as he was tall and could see over the heads of the majority of the people in the crowd, and Juna allowed herself to be pulled along, trusting the man to not get her trampled.

"Indeed." she responded, also having to yell in order to be heard over the roaring crowds flanking her, "Interesting. I'm sure Gryffindor and Hufflepuff will have much to celebrate tonight."

"Yeah. They probably will." Hughes swerved rather suddenly to the right to dodge a particularly dense crowd before he made his way down some stairs and back inside the castle.

They had gotten lucky, and were near the front of the great mob of people, so they quickly dispersed from the rest and began to find a quieter spot.

They chose Hughes's office.

"Care to sit down?" he asked as he set a kettle to boil for tea. He took a bowl of biscuits and offered one to Juna.

"I've done enough sitting for the day; though, I will have to do more in a little bit." Juna took a biscuit with a napkin she'd taken from the holder on the table and bit into it, careful to keep crumbs from falling.

"So..." Hughes began casually, falling into a seat with a tired _thunk_. They'd switched to Amestrian when they'd entered.

Juna waits for him to continue, patiently taking another bite of biscuit.

"I have a distinct feeling you'll be including giant flying reptiles being used as entertainment in your report to Mustang."

"That is the plan, yes." she nods, "I think it is important enough to include, as the Tournament is one of the major events of the year."

"That's good... Have you- Have you mentioned..." he gestures as if trying to catch the right words. His brow is furrowed in slight frustration.

"Have I made mention of you in any reports?" she asks, more as confirmation than as a question.

He nods sheepishly.

She shakes her head, "I am not opposed to doing so. However, I am giving you the chance to do so first, as I thought you would be all over the thought."

The man's eyes sink to his cup, an unreadable expression on his face, "So did I... I-I don't know why but..." he sighed, placing the cup down and placing his head in his hands.

It's times like these when Juna remembers this man has already been through a war. He's a tired man, who wants to see his family and live a happy life. But something is holding him back from doing so, and he's not sure what it is himself.

He stands abruptly, giving her a smile that was so blatantly strained it hurt to look at, "I'm going to grade papers. Make yourself at home and finish the tea. If you need me, I'll... ahh... be in the classroom." and he promptly stumbles out of the room.

Maes Hughes was definitely not himself lately. Juna watches the door close behind the man before she turns her attention to the rest of the room.

Hughes's office had a more casual approach to its design than most of the other teachers. There was a table in the center of the room with a set of six chairs around it and a spread of lesson plans resting on its oak surface. There was an armchair in the corner beside the lit fireplace with a small table for cups or other similarly small things; a bookshelf on the armchair's other side was filled with odds and ends and classic Amestrian Literature. A single window with parted curtains let in light and gave a nice view of the grounds, and on the adjacent wall was a door that led to his bedroom.

It was a nice room, but for some reason, it didn't quite seem right.

Juna let her eyes wander further, noting the inventory of the shelves and other minor details. Most notably, she looked for what _wasn't_ there.

There were no photographs, no drawings made in crayon or colored pencil hanging on the walls like masterpieces. There were no picture books on the shelves or coloring books laying around. There were no random toys in the armchair or on the table, and no pretty puzzles dotting the floors.

It was his office, but it wasn't the office of Maes Hughes; Juna found the thought odd, but she couldn't seem to find another way of putting it.

She sighed, running a finger over her automail eye for the second or third time that day when she noticed something she had missed in her observations.

In the far corner of the room sat a wastebasket filled and surrounded by crumpled parchment. She picked one up and opened it as neatly as she could and stared.

It was a letter to Gracia and Elicia.

_Dear Gracia,_

_It's me, Maes. I know it's hard to believe, but it really is me, and I'm alive..._

There was a whole passage following that which was completely scribbled out to the point of illegibility. She could just barely make out the last portion:

_There's nothing I wouldn't give to see you all again as soon as possible. I love you two so much, I regret (illegible through scribbling) return._

_With Love,_

_Maes Hughes_

She sorted through a few others, noting they were all letters, all addressed to one of two people: Gracia and Mustang.

Mustang...

She'd forgotten he was also here in Britain, working on strengthening alliances politically. All it would take is an owl and he'd be on his way here to see the evidence of Hughes's survival for himself.

Juna stared at the scribbly mess a little longer before she re-crumpled the letters and placed them back where they had been to the best of her ability before she straightened and began to think.

She estimated there were around eighty to ninety letters laying there, give or take. One letter for each evening if her calculations are correct, and that might not be accurate considering the house-elves tended to come in and clean the offices of their assigned professor every now and then. She was willing to bet he wrote at least four or five attempts an evening.

Juna wasn't sure what to feel; she rarely knew anyway, but that isn't the point. She was glad he was trying, as that means Maes Hughes is still in there somewhere, but she was also irritated, she wasn't sure what she was irritated with exactly, just that she was. Hughes was in there, but he wasn't okay.

She wondered why. Why was he struggling with this? He never had before, so what's different, now?

She thought back to that night. Hughes had called from a phone booth in the middle of the night, saying he had information. There was a gunshot, and the phone call went dead.

Everyone had thought he was dead.

A thought hit her.

Had Hughes thought he would die that night, too? After he was shot, did he come to an acceptance that he would never see his family again? Is his mind still struggling with this thought?

She thought that over for a moment. It sounded plausible. She wasn't sure how correct it was, but she only had what she knew and heard plus some of her own assumptions to work with. It would have to do for now.

If her idea's correct, then something needs to be done soon or it might never happen. She wanted Hughes to recover, and right now he was only getting worse. He may have fooled others, but she'd known Hughes for years, now. There was a tightness to his smiles that wasn't there before. She almost never saw him taking out his pictures of Gracia and Elicia, which was one of the first signs that something is seriously wrong with Hughes, and it seems she was finally figuring out what it was. A mental block.

Juna took a deep breath, refocusing her thoughts onto a more optimistic path. The real question right now would be what to do, not what was wrong.

She had just begun her new train of thought when the door opened. She turned to see Hughes and Snape standing in the frame.

"There's an unplanned teacher's meeting," Hughes explained as he gave her a shrug; he wasn't sure what it was about, either.

Juna joined them and they walked to the teacher's lounge together.

When everyone was seated (they were the last to arrive) Dumbledore began his explanation.

"It has come to my attention that some of you may not be aware of the upcoming Yule Ball that will be held over the winter holidays."

Any thoughts Juna had drifted to a screeching halt. A Ball? Dancing?! Socializing?!

"It is an event that is always held after the first task in order to bring the three schools together. Our four Heads of Houses have the job of making sure each student is educated in basic ballroom dance, and the four champions are required to start the Ball with the first dance."

Then came the death blow.

"While you are not required to dance or have a date to the dance, the attendance of everyone here in this room is mandatory."

Why? Just. Why?

After the figurative bomb Dumbledore dropped, he also mentioned there would be an Amestrian representative attending as a gesture of friendship between the two countries. She had a feeling that the person would be Mustang, as he was the one who was already here.

He would be reunited with Hughes, and it appeared that Hughes realized this, as his face had gone rather blank.

Mustang was one of the people who took Hughes's death the hardest, and if he saw him alive again after all the grief and trauma, he would flip. He would likely attack Hughes, call him an impostor or something of the sort.

It wouldn't be pretty, that's for sure.

Hughes seemed to be suffering from writer's block, and she had a feeling he wouldn't be getting over it on his own. This meant she's the one who needs to do something. The question is what?

She entered her bedroom and plopped into her desk chair, she swept her research materials off the table, for now. She wasn't about to sleep with all these depressing thoughts, so she may as well make the most of her time. She had some work to do.

...

The days flew by until the holidays were nearly upon them. Students were in a frenzy asking out others to the Yule Ball and finishing up the pile of homework that only seemed to grow by the day.

Harry looked down at the sheet of parchment that was his Alchemy homework. It wasn't due for another two weeks, but Professor Elric had mentioned one of the problems would likely take a long time to figure out and had recommended they start as soon as possible, and Harry had taken her word for it. Ron was beside him with the dream diary he'd been assigned in Divination, and Hermione had three different essays drying beside her on Charms, Transfiguration, and Herbology and was making quick progress on the Alchemy assignment.

Professor Elric had once again assigned reading and a set of questions, this one more extensive than the last with review questions included to make sure the class still remembered everything.

Harry was on question six: _Explain what a rebound is and why one might occur._

It was an easy question to answer, as it had been explicitly stated in the reading (there was a full chapter dedicated to it!), so he was quick to answer it and move on to the next question. He answered that quickly, too, and moved on again.

_Explain the difference between Covalent and Ionic Bonds. Give examples of each. Don't give the same examples you gave on the quiz._

Another quick answer, but it took him a moment to come up with new examples. He moved on, and paused.

The next and last question was a bonus question she'd given. They were still required to answer it, but it would not be worth any points. She'd mentioned it had no answer that could be found in a book, which had Hermione staring into the abyss with a horror-struck look for a full hour, much to the amusement of everyone in the class.

_In your words, explain what you think "All is One and One is All" means._

He frowned. That was a very weird question for Professor Elric. She didn't seem the type to give out riddles, but she also didn't seem the type to do things for no reason.

"All is One and One is All?" he murmured, "That sounds like that quote from _The Three Musketeers_."

"That's 'All _for_ One and One _for_ All', Harry." Hermione corrected. She looked on the verge of pulling her hair out, as she found herself staring in despair at the same question. Harry vaguely wondered what was going on through his friend's book-driven brain before he decided he'd rather not know and proceeded to do his own thinking.

"I said it _sounds_ like the quote. Not that it _is_ the quote, Hermione." Harry elaborated, as he nibbled distractedly on a chocolate frog.

He had no clue what to do with this question. He'd never heard this riddle, and he had no clue what it could mean. The only thing he had to go off of was the Musketeer quote, and they were clearly different quotes.

It was Saturday morning -Hermione had convinced them to do their homework early for once-, so that meant he could go see Professor Elric for some help. It would help him get the Yule Ball off his mind as well, as Harry wasn't really sure who to ask out as a date. Sure, he could ask Hermione, but something was stopping him from doing that. It just hadn't felt right for some reason that evaded him, leaving him still without a date and confused.

He stood, and Neville, who was previously immersed in his Herbology essay, looked up, "You going somewhere Harry?" he inquired with a tilt of his head.

"Just to see Professor Elric," he answered before he opened the Fat Lady's portrait and left.

Harry strolled through the halls at a leisurely pace; he had the time and needed to relax. Apparently strolling around was almost as calming as flying around the Quidditch Pitch. The parchment in his hands flapped slightly as his arms swung lazily at his sides. His quill and inkwell were in his other hand, and Harry noted that he'd need to get more ink soon. The bottle he had was running out.

Professor Elric's door was open when he arrived; it was always like that during Saturday Study Sessions, and he could hear voices coming from the inside.

He stepped in to find the classroom was empty save for two people, who were the ones talking.

It was Professor Hughes and Professor Elric.

Harry felt himself straighten up at the sight of the Muggle Studies Professor. The incident between him and Ron was still rather fresh despite how long ago it was. Professor Hughes knew how to make himself intimidating despite his friendly appearance.

They were speaking in that other language, so he didn't understand what was being said, but the conversation ended quickly after Professor Elric noticed him.

"Is there something you need help with, Mr. Potter?" she asked. Hughes turned around and gave Harry a friendly smile, which Harry awkwardly returned.

"I'll leave you two for now. Remember to stop by my office, Juna. I wanted to... ah, what's the phrase... catch up with you on some things." Hughes gave her a grin and left, giving Harry a pat on the shoulder as he left.

The action vaguely made Harry think of what a father was supposed to act like, but he reminded himself he was here for tutoring, not wishing.

Professor Elric stood, "You are the only one here today, Mr. Potter. Come. My office has more comfortable seats than the classroom, and I find myself wanting a change in scenery."

Harry followed her up to the office, which was rather simple compared to other offices he's been in. The blonde professor gestured towards the couch, an invitation to sit, and she sat down across from him and offered him a biscuit. He took one and the meeting began.

"I take it you have a question." Professor Elric stated, her back was straight and her hands rested folded on her crossed legs. She looked poised and mature. Harry vaguely pondered how old she was before he straightened his own back in an act of self-consciousness and started talking.

"I don't know how to answer question eight." he blurted out before he realized just how blunt and awkward that came out, and how stupid he sounded.

"The bonus question?" she asked, more for confirmation than anything.

Harry nodded.

"I see." she stared at him for a moment, assessing him, before she continued, "I wish to hear what you have already thought of before I start."

"Umm..." she raised her visible eyebrow and he felt his ears redden. He sounded like an idiot! "It sounds a lot like this one quote from a book I read in muggle school, _The_ _Three_ _Musketeers_."

"Could you tell me the quote?" she asked.

"It went something like..." he scrunched his nose in thought, "all for one and one for all, united we stand divided we fall."

"And did your teacher in... muggle school" her lip almost seemed to quirk slightly at the word 'muggle' as if she was trying to remain serious in an amusing conversation, "ever discuss the meaning of the phrase?"

"It meant that the group looked after each person and each person looked after the group or something along those lines..." he trailed off, "the second part is pretty clear. Together, you can handle more than you can alone."

Juna stared. She looked to be thinking, and Harry sat as still and quiet as he could so she could think in peace. It was a full thirty seconds later that she opened her mouth and began to talk, "I believe the phrase goes... You are on the right track. Focusing on the first part of the quote you mentioned, the two quotes are very similar, and the meanings are quite close. The only major difference is the context. Try to apply the quote to alchemy."

Suddenly she stood, "I'll let you think for a bit. Would you like some tea?"

He nodded mutely, caught off guard by the suddenness of the proposition, "Umm... sure."

With a nod of acknowledgment, the blonde left to prepare the required beverage.

Try to apply the quote to Alchemy? Harry wondered, feeling the urge to bang his head on the table. That would be so much more helpful if he knew how to do so. The Three Musketeers had nothing to do with Alchemy! Finding a comparison would be about as easy as raising a Blast Ended Skrewt in Harry's opinion.

Juna returned with the tea to see Harry with a frown and furrowed brows.

She almost snorted. The situation was so different from the deserted island she and her brothers were left on that it made her feel a little strange. It's funny, though. The deserted island had actually helped them in figuring out the riddle, even if they hadn't necessarily felt that way at first. Unfortunately, there weren't many deserted islands around here, and it would likely be considered inhumane torture, so she was left with what she could find on the grounds.

She placed the tray down and handed Harry his cup, which he took in the sort of distracted manner of someone doing something without realizing they were moving.

The young Alchemist stared at her student. He was stressed. She could tell that from the dark bags under his eyes and the rather prominent frown marring his features. The Tournament was getting to him it seemed. She took a sip of her own tea, careful not to grip the handle too hard, lest it break and make a mess.

A part of her wondered if he was getting enough sleep, but then she realized she had no room to talk, as there was a joke going around the Central HQ that she was secretly a vampire that never slept and survived off caffeine instead of blood.

Instead of voicing her concerns, she decided to let the boy think in silence, watching as he absently drank his tea with glazed eyes. Noting for the first time how skinny he was, she pushed a biscuit in his direction on a plain napkin and watched as he picked it up in the same manner he picked up the teacup and nibbled at it like he was a mouse instead of a human. The thought was vaguely amusing but she pushed the feeling down, noticing the time and the emptiness of the cups.

"I think that is enough for tonight." she declared. Harry almost fell off the couch with a startled yelp, and it was only his instincts as a Seeker and sheer, dumb luck that allowed him to catch the cup that flew from his hands before it hit the ground. He looked up at her sheepishly and began to apologize. Juna waved it off and dismissed him with one final piece of advice:

"Take a walk. Look around the greenhouses or other such places of nature. I found it helped my brothers and me when we were originally trying to solve the same riddle."

With that piece of strange advice, Harry left and returned to the Gryffindor Common room for bed.

He hoped things would be calm for a little while before chaos reigned supreme again.

He should have realized that would jinx him.

...

The next few weeks were chaotic. Professors were busy preparing for the Yule Ball, the cleaning spree was almost as intense as the one before the arrival of the foreign schools! Students were rushing left and right trying to find a date, and Harry was caught in the middle of it all with the other champions, who still needed to solve their eggs alongside finding dates for the ball and keeping up with schoolwork.

Harry seriously wondered what an unbearable screech was supposed to mean. Maybe Aunt Petunia was mistaken for a strange creature that they had to face?

He shook his head to rid himself of the fantasies of summoning frying pans to throw at her -let her know what it felt like-; he had to focus on the lesson. Harry wasn't quite sure when it would be useful to transfigure a porcupine into a pincushion, but who was he to judge people's logic?

Time flew faster than Harry's Firebolt, which wasn't very useful as Harry and Ron were still as alone as the sun in a cloudless sky; no dates to be seen for miles around!

As a matter of fact, it was complete luck that Harry had managed to get the Patil twins, as it seemed every girl he passed already had a date. Even Ginny and Hermione were already taken!

Ron was dealing with another problem altogether that had Harry almost pitying him: his dress robes.

Harry's dress robes were new, a nice emerald green. Ron's were maroon (his least favorite color), and looked like something that would have been fashionable a few centuries ago. Harry would admit that thing would find better luck being appreciated as the chew blanket for a dog; the dog would be glad to chew and rip the thing to shreds.

Sadly, as there wasn't enough money to buy a new set of dress robes, Ron was stuck with that... thing.

Padma Patil would not be happy.

And she most certainly wasn't. Ron spent the entire time sitting on the sidelines, trying to become invisible. Padma ended up dancing with some other guys instead while Ron brooded and watched Hermione dance with Krum. She looked to be having a blast, and Harry absently noticed that Krum appeared to be smiling.

Harry and Parvati didn't dance much together, either. They were required to do the first dance as Harry was the champion, but afterward, they agreed that splitting up to do what they wanted was the best option, as they didn't know each other well enough to do more than make awkward conversation. Harry joined Ron for a bit before having a quick chat with Neville about how awkward they both were then leaving to get some fresh air. The courtyard was also decorated, to a lesser extent than the Hall, and was relatively empty. There were some couples who'd left to spend some quiet time with each other, but for the most part, the place was deserted.

At least, he thought so until he spotted Professor Hughes. He sat at a bench in the corner and stared up at the stars. He had a faraway look on his face that, to Harry, looked very wrong on the man's usually friendly, smiling face.

He was moving on, knowing this probably wasn't any of his business, when he ran into someone. Harry shook his head to clear it and looked up to see who he'd accidentally rammed into.

It was a tall man that had an Asian look to him. His short, black hair was neatly styled and he wore a blue uniform that looked distinctly military. His hands here clasped behind his back and he stood tall and proud, even if he wasn't much taller than Harry, himself was.

"Sorry about that." the man apologized with a polite smile, "I wasn't paying attention to my surroundings. Are you alright?"

Harry took a moment to note that the man spoke with an accent similar to Professor Elric and Hughes before he realized the question was targeted at him, "Oh! Um... Yeah. I'm fine. I, um, wasn't looking where I was going either... yeah."

That... Could have gone better. Why was he such an awkward person!?

"Well, I guess it's best to just put that event behind us, then." His eyes widened slightly in realization, "I'm sorry, I haven't introduced myself, yet. I'm Colonel Roy Mustang of Amestris. I'm here as a representative."

The man, Mustang, held his hand out for a handshake.

"Um... Harry. Harry Potter. Nice to meet you... Colonel?" Harry grasped his hand and gave it a shake, thankful, for once, for the etiquette lessons Aunt Petunia had jammed into his head as a child in an attempt to

"Mustang or Roy is fine. I'm not here as part of the military, and how can anyone enjoy a night when they have to worry about titles?"

Harry nodded in agreement, not sure how to respond.

"I'm actually looking for someone. Juna Elric. Would you by any chance know where she is?"

"Professor Elric?" he blinked in surprise, "Um..." he looked around to see if he could catch sight of her. She noticed her leaning on the wall, dressed in a similar uniform to Mustang's. She managed to look distinctly uncomfortable while simultaneously maintaining her stoic expression.

Harry pointed her out and Mustang's gave a light chuckle, muttering out a "Should have known" before he thanked the younger boy and made his way over to her.

Professor Elric turned her attention to the man and casually stood to her full height, not that it was very high, and gave the man a respectful salute. He saluted her back and with a few quick words exchanged, they eased into a casual discussion. Harry couldn't make out what they said, but it obviously wasn't too serious if their facial expressions were anything to go by. Appearances could be deceiving, though.

The blonde pointed in his direction and said a few more words. Then she left, weaving through the dancing couples with ease as if they weren't even there.

Mustang turned back towards him and began to walk. Harry stood a little straighter in case the man wanted to talk to him, but the Colonel walked past him and out the door into the courtyard. He did give the younger male a nod of acknowledgement, though, before he continued on his way.

He was heading straight for Professor Hughes. The muggle studies professor seemed too lost in thought to notice. The uniformed man stopped and planted himself on the professor's left, looking up at the sky. He apparently said something because Professor Hughes's head snapped sideways in surprise, and he tensed the slightest amount.

Harry couldn't hear the two men, and he likely wouldn't understand what they were saying, especially if they spoke in that other language that sounded so much like German but wasn't. He decided to leave and enjoy the party as much as he could without being forced into another dance.

Some things weren't need-to-know.

...

Roy Mustang had been absolutely shocked when he'd received the latest letter/report from Juna. He'd had to read it and re-read it so many times that the words were trapped in his brain, repeating on an endless loop.

_Colonel Mustang,_

_The last few weeks have been rather hectic, and I can't say I'm surprised. Every professor and student was excited for the first task of the tournament. Let me start, before I go into detail, with my own personal opinion on this task, as I have recently witnessed it with the rest of the school. Letting school-age children face a mother dragon for the sake of entertainment is a little much for my tastes, and I am starting to understand why this death trap of a tournament was banned in the first place! Every book on dragons that I have read in the school library mentions that dragons are some of the most dangerous beasts in the magical world, and that nesting, mother dragons, which the champions had to get around to "retrieve a golden egg", are considered to be the most dangerous of them all as their protective instincts are dialed up to eleven. Did I mention that this tournament had been originally banned because of a too high death toll? _

_A healthy dose of common sense would be nice from these people, but I will admit that some of the methods the four champions used were interesting. Never thought I'd say this, but magic is rather interesting, even if it makes no sense in terms of equivalent exchange. Despite my previous doubts about this job, I will admit things around here are rather fascinating, but I'm not going to go too far into detail because I have something of importance to tell you before I get too far off track. All I ask is that you refrain from barging in and demanding an explanation because I'd like to avoid any confrontations that would attract negative media attention, and I'm fairly certain a reporter is sneaking around somehow in this school if the current articles in the magical newspaper are anything to go by. Let me just say before I make the big reveal that this shocked me to the core._

_ I need to tell you that Hughes is alive. Since the Yule Ball is coming up in December, and all staff are required to attend, he and I will both be present at this event. A representative of Amestris, as Dumbledore mentioned, will be coming here. You are that representative, correct? He, meaning Dumbledore, didn't give a name, but you are the only other Amestrian present in this country, so I deduced that you would be the one to come. I wanted to tell you about Hughes because I believed you would need to hear this from someone trustworthy in order to avoid any scandal-worthy confrontation._

_Getting to more official matters, the students are progressing relatively quickly considering how little time I've had to teach them. Recalling my own experiences, and comparing them to the students here, I'm not sure whether I'm pushing them or coddling them. As there are rules against me dumping all the students on a deserted island for a month, I know they don't have to suffer as much physically, but the large amount of information I'm trying to stuff into their heads within a year is bound to be difficult to process without the years of prior knowledge that the other alchemists I know have. Chemistry, as I mentioned before, isn't even a topic here at this school, and neither is mathematics, the closest thing to either of these is Potions and Arithmacy respectively. I can say that getting these students to an acceptable level to begin basic transmutations is difficult, but should things go as they currently are going, I believe some students may be able to start with these transmutations as early as the end of winter break. _

_Amazing what one can do when they put their mind to it. Too bad you seem to struggle with this if what Hawkeye says about your growing paperwork pile is true. Of course, I'm sure there's an understandable explanation for you shirking your duties, again, and I'd be glad to listen to your excuses -if only before amusement- but might I recommend not pissing off Hawkeye? Obey the person who can probably castrate you with a gun, please; it will save you much pain and discomfort._

_My regards,_

_Lt. Colonel Juna Elric_

_The Alloy Eye Alchemist_

There was a simple code in the writing, easy to decipher. Every first letter of a sentence: "Tell Ed and Al I say hi. Gracia, too."*

He'd done just that, calling Ed short in the process, because why not? Pissing him off was fun. He also payed Gracia and Elicia a personal visit as they needed to see the letter, too.

The woman had burst into tears of joy when she read the third paragraph, and when Elicia asked why her mommy was crying, Gracia explained that they might be able to see Daddy soon. The child had screamed in joy and pestered Mustang until he confirmed this, and laughed joyfully when he did.

Now, here he was, standing beside the same man he'd thought was dead a few months back, a drink in his hand, staring at the sky with him like they used to during Ishval.

"It's a nice night out." he began when it became obvious the other man wasn't going to say anything.

Hughes's head snapped to the side. Shocked, hazel eyes met his own pair of charcoal orbs. They stayed like that for a while. Mustang made sure to keep his face relaxed and blank, preventing the internal emotional turmoil from showing in his expression.

Hughes finally got his bearings back, and he took another few moments to breathe and collect himself. Both turned their gaze back to the sky.

"Yeah..." the living dead-man said quietly.

"How're you alive." Mustang couldn't help but ask.

"Dumbledore found me. He brought me back here and when I woke up, he offered me a teaching position for the year and let me stay here during my recovery. I'm still nowhere near as strong as i was. I can barely lift twenty kilos, now. It's an improvement, though. When Juna first saw me, I was still on crutches and could barely lift a small box full of pencils. My muscles had atrophied quite a bit."

"You definitely look better now than what you described." the Colonel eyed the man beside him. Hughes nods in agreement.

"I definitely won't miss the crutches. They were a pain to maneuver around in. Juna often had to help me down the stairs, which was pretty embarrassing, but the students and staff were quite understanding."

He continued to ramble a bit as Mustang observed him. The man really did seem out of sorts, as Juna mentioned before he came to speak with Hughes. He had this faraway look in his eye, like he wasn't completely here. He hadn't even mentioned Gracia and Elicia in this entire conversation, when he'd normally take every chance he could to do so.

At some point in Mustang's observations, Hughes had gone silent. They stood, watching the sky together like old times.

"You know..." Mustang began, planning his words, "I thought you were going to ask me about Gracia and Elicia."

The blunt approach it is.

Hughes froze.

Mustang plowed on calmly, "They know you're alive. I showed them Juna's last letter. She included your status, mentioning that she wanted to avoid me 'causing a scandal'," he made finger quotes before adding jokingly, "whatever she means about that."

The man beside him gave a sort of distracted huff of laughter that showed the Colonel's attempt at humor, while not completely successful, was acknowledged.

That's a start.

"Elicia is very excited to see you again, and Gracia has her hands full with that little bundle of energy. I'm actually surprised you haven't sent a letter yourself."

There it is. Hughes face went carefully blank. His gaze was faraway again. Mustang waited patiently for a response this time.

"Yeah..." Hughes responded distractedly, "So am I."

The two men stood in silence for a bit before Mustang turned to lean back on the railing. His gaze caught Juna's and she gestured to the right with her head. Mustang followed the gesture, and smiled.

"Hey, Hughes. Someone would like to see you."

The other man perked up slightly and turned around, "Oh? Who would need to do that no-" hazel eyes widened in shock and his voice went silent. He seemed to be trying to form words, but his vocal chords weren't ready to function.

Standing in front of him, looking lovely in a pastel-purple evening dress, a pink shawl over her shoulders, was Gracia Hughes. She was staring at Hughes as if her mind had finally comprehended that he was, in fact, alive, and that the letter had not been a trick.

"... Maes..." she whispered out, but the single word traveled the length of the pathway with unnatural ease, and the man heard her perfectly.

A movement near her leg brought attention to the young child clinging to the woman's skirt, dressed in a cute, frilly, pink dress that matched her pigtails' ribbons.

"... Gracia... Elicia..." Hughes murmured.

"Daddy..." Elicia responded. Looking like she couldn't believe her eyes, before comprehension formed in her young gaze and a wide grin full of innocence and joy lit up her face, and she ran towards the man, "Daddy!"

It was pure instinct that allowed Hughes to crouch down and catch her in a firm hug. Hughes's face was was still one of shock.

Mustang could see when the shock changed to hope, to realization, to acceptance, to a tearful joy, and the other man readjusted himself to give his daughter a proper hug.

A small but bright smile had lit his face and tears streamed down his face, "Elicia... Daddy's here. Daddy loves you and missed you so much."

Mustang couldn't help the smile that climbed onto his face as he watched the touching scene, only made more emotional by the slow-dance music playing in the ballroom. He noticed a flash of gold hair in his peripheral vision and turned his attention to his fellow alchemist. She was also watching the scene with a small, fond smile, a rarity for someone as stoic as she. Hughes had now stood to embrace Gracia with Elicia now clinging to both of their legs with a wide smile.

"A touching moment, isn't it." Mustang commented. Juna nodded.

Hughes caught the two alchemists watching the reunion and gained a look of disapproval.

"What are you two standing around there for?" he demanded, causing the Flame and Alloy Eye Alchemists to straighten sheepishly, like they'd been caught with their hands in the cookie jar.

"Um..." Juna began eloquently, not sure what to say.

"Get over here, you two! You guys are as much a part of the family as we are!" the glasses-wearing man pulled the two of them into the hug without letting them respond.

"OOF!"

Unfortunately, he'd pulled too hard and now the whole group of five was now in a giant doggy pile in the courtyard.

Mustang and Juna directed indignant pouts in the man's direction before the whole group started to laugh. They had missed the shenanigans that came with their Maes Hughes.

And if Juna swore the Weasley twins, who had witnessed the whole reunion, to secrecy regarding her smiling and laughing, nobody had to know.

**And that's that! The end of chapter 6! I hope you enjoyed, and if you did, leave a like and review. Constructive criticism is appreciated. This chapter was evading me terribly, for some reason, especially the ending, and I find that the thing went on for much longer than I expected. I did include two major events, though, so there was bound to be a lot to cover.**

**Elicia and Gracia have made an appearance! Yay, reunions!**

***I did actually put that code into the letter. The first letter of every sentence gives another letter of the coded message. You can check, if you want. I got the idea for this both from reading other Fullmetal Alchemist fanfiction and from the murder mystery boxes my family have been doing together during quarantine. In these boxes, you find, among other things, a lot of coded letters that provide evidence to help identify the killer. I thought I'd give a shot at writing a coded letter of my own.**

**Please stay safe and healthy, everyone! Wash your hands, eat healthy food, drink plenty of water, get some exercise in, etc.**


	7. Chapter 7

**Hello, my fellow human beings! I am back with another chapter. I once again hope you enjoy it! Remember to leave a review if you have anything you want to say about the story. I hope everyone stays healthy and happy!**

**Disclaimer: No. I am not the owner of Fullmetal Alchemist (or Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood, or the manga) or Harry Potter (both the books and movies). Thank you for your time.**

**Now, I present to you... Chapter 7!**

**Chapter 7: Bonding Time or This Is Kinda-Sorta a Filler? Maybe? I Don't Know!**

The day of the Second Task was approaching quickly. Harry's luck with cracking the secret of the screaming egg (and boy did that sound like the title of a children's mystery book) remained unfruitful.

Mysteries aside, though, Harry was currently in the library with Hermione, Ron, and some other members of the study group, working on a potions essay about the properties of some ingredient or another. His charms essay was drying beside him.

Hermione was racing through the homework as if her life depended on it, as usual. The essays for Potions, Charms, Herbology, and Muggle Studies were all finished and drying while she worked through the Alchemy assignments for the week. Her essays appeared much shorter now than Harry remembered, and when he'd asked, she only said that Professor Elric had spoken with her about her assignments and left it at that.

Neville was receiving tutoring from Malfoy in Potions, and the two were actually getting along somewhat civilly ever since Neville started improving in the subject. The Gryffindor was doing much better in the class, now, especially in the practical portions; his grade was a solid Exceeds Expectations, but he still struggled with the homework and theory, so he had basically begged Malfoy to help him, and the platinum blond had accepted, to the surprise of a lot of people.

He still hadn't mentioned why he had changed his behavior, but Harry would leave that alone for now. What mattered was that the guy was trying to be a better person, and that was good.

Ron, who had recently started joining the study group, was toiling away at the same essay Harry was on, simultaneously discussing ideas for his Divination assignment because there wasn't much that one could do if they didn't have "The Sight" beyond getting creative.

Harry was stuck on a specific spot in the essay. His mind wasn't working, and words were not forming. Even when he thinks he found a piece of inspiration, he'd put his quill to the parchment and he is suddenly blanking again.

He had no clue what to do, and he didn't want to break his streak of good potion grades when he was at an Exceeds Expectations for the semester. He had worked his butt off for that EE, and he was not about to get a D after so long!

He never thought he'd say this, but Potions was starting to become a decent subject in his eyes. Snape had gone silent in his insults, and would just pass his cauldron without comment because his potions were actually successful, now. Hermione's advice about reading the instructions multiple times before acting was actually quite helpful. He had taken to copying the directions down and using that as a reference.

Now, however, his brain refused to process words. Maybe he needed some fresh air.

He closed the book that lay open in front of him and stood, "I need a break." he declared quietly, "I'm going to take a walk. Maybe it'll help clear my head."

There were a few sounds of acknowledgment from the group, and Blaise Zabini, who was explaining something to Theodore Nott and Susan Bones, said, "Don't get hurt saving a random cat from the moving stairs."

"I thought I had a 'Saving **_People_** Thing', Zabini. What changed?" Harry pouted jokingly.

"You never know, Potter." the Slytherin boy looked up with a hint of mischief in his eyes, "With your luck, you might just start saving animals, too."

Harry eloquently stuck out his tongue, which Blaise returned just as eloquently with a funny face of his own, something that caught his seatmate off guard as the boy rarely resorted to such childish acts, before the Second Champion of Hogwarts finally left to take the walk he had originally stood up for.

He made it down to the courtyard where he had first spoken to Hughes over his sketchbook, only to find the bench he usually frequented occupied by a certain two figures.

One was Professor Elric. She knelt in front of the bench with a look of concentration on her face. A ballpoint pen rested in her left hand, and she tapped it rhythmically against her temple.

Next to her, actually sitting on the bench, was the man Harry had run into the night of the Yule Ball. He was pretty sure the man's name was Mustang. He was currently watching the Alchemy Professor do... whatever she was doing. Harry couldn't see what it was from where he stood. For all he knew, she was doing a Sudoku puzzle!

He was about to move on and find another place when the man spoke, "You know, you can join us, kid. We don't bite."

The man looked up and made eye contact with Harry to show he was talking to him. Harry blushed sheepishly, a bit embarrassed at being caught staring. The man gestured for Harry to come over, and the younger male did so, not sure how to act around the military man.

...

Roy Mustang watched as the boy approached, observing his actions.

The kid was very jumpy like he was waiting for the other shoe to drop. He could just be shy, but while Mustang noted the boy could be quite introverted outside of his friend group, he wasn't exactly uncomfortable in his own skin like he seemed to be right now. Did he have something against new people? Or was it just adults?

"You can relax, you know." Roy begins, "We're just here for some fresh air. I'm going to guess you are, too? Alloy Eye mentioned you had a free period."

Juna looked up at the mention of her nickname before returning to her work, deciphering a strange circle that had been found in various parts of Central, as Harry's look turned inquisitive, "Alloy Eye?... That's Professor Elric's State Alchemist name... right?"

Mustang nodded, "Correct. When an Alchemist earns the title of State Alchemist, they also gain a nickname that usually gives an idea of where their specialty lies. Juna is particularly skilled with metals and alloys." he smirked slightly, "You could say she has an _eye_ for the- OW!"

Professor Elric had whacked him in the leg. She hadn't even looked up from her work. The boy looked like he was wondering if he missed some sort of inside joke somewhere, which he had.

"Anyway," Mustang cleared his throat, "She specializes in metals, particularly alloys, but she is also knowledgeable in a few other fields of Alchemy, which is why she was requested for the teaching position."

Harry looked like he remembered something, perhaps Alloy Eye had mentioned her specialty at a previous time? The boy turned his attention to the Alchemy Professor, "Umm... what are you doing?" he blushed awkwardly, likely realizing that his question came out blunt, "If it's... not too much to ask?" he ended uncertainly.

"I am trying to decipher the purpose of this circle." Juna responded, finally looking up to meet the boy's curious gaze with her own blank gold, "You recall my lesson on Transmutation Circles, correct?"

The boy nodded. Mustang recalled in one of her letters that she'd held a class right before Christmas Break which served as an introduction to real Transmutation.

(Flashback Start, Harry's POV)

"Class, please put your books away." Professor Elric clapped, making the jumpier kids startle in their seats, "Today, we will begin with a practical demonstration on exactly how Alchemy works. Push the desks against the wall and gather around. Leave me some space to work."

The students rushed to do as they were told, and not even five minutes later, the demonstration began. Some of the foreign students were also there, as Professor Elric had divided them among the different classes for the sake of not making one class much larger than the others.

"Now, before I begin, who can tell me the three steps to transmutation?" she asked. A Hufflepuff in the back raised his hand and she called on him.

"Comprehension, Deconstruction, and Reconstruction." the student responded.

"Five points to Hufflepuff. Miss Decalour, could you explain to me what happens during Comprehension?"

The part-Veela's french accent fills the room, "It is the part where you understand the makeup of what you transmute."

"Correct. Ms. Patil," the Ravenclaw perks up, "could you explain the process of Deconstruction?"

The girl straightens up, "It is the process of deconstructing the materials to their base forms."

"Five points for Ravenclaw. Mr. Volkov*, could you finish this off with an explanation of Reconstruction?"

The guy was one of the Durmstrang students that had signed up for the class. He responded in a strong Slavic accent Harry wasn't able to place, "Reconstruction is the process of putting together the deconstructed materials, resulting in something new."

"Correct." the Professor states again, and Harry vaguely notes she's pacing with her hands clasped behind her back, "These three steps are the three steps that go into a transmutation, but what does that mean? What does each step look like?" she stops abruptly and turns to the circle of students, causing a few to jump.

She holds up a block of wood, "Can anyone tell me what this is?"

"A block of wood?" came a voice from the back.

"Yes. A block of wood. It's oak wood to be specific. Now, do you recall the riddle I gave you all to solve? All is One and One is All?"

There were nods.

"As you have all managed to get the answer to the riddle right by now, including those who took a few tries to do so, I have decided you are ready to learn how to do a basic transmutation, and that is what we will do after the Christmas Break."

There were excited murmurs going around, now. Harry, himself, felt anticipation rising in his chest when the professor said those words.

"Before I begin, I would like to say this." her expression was more serious than Harry had thought possible, "If you are going to attempt a transmutation, it must be done in this classroom, under my supervision, and nowhere else. You lot may be bright students, but you are still inexperienced and are more at risk of having a rebound due to a silly mistake that could have been avoided. Am I clear?"

Everyone responds with a "Yes, Professor."

"Good. Now, the thing about Alchemy is that it does not need a wand. However, it requires another medium to channel the energy of transmutation. That is where this" she holds up a piece of chalk, "comes in. In Alchemy, we use what is called a transmutation circle. These circles channel the energy of transmutation and allow you to create your desired outcome from the provided input. The circle is like a code for a computer program or like the runes in a magical ward. In this case, the input is this piece of oak wood." she gestures to the wood piece in her hand, "And the circle will be designed with the purpose of manipulating this piece of oak wood."

She moves to the center of the room and kneels on the ground, "As you can guess, the base component of the Transmutation Circle is a circle." she draws the most perfect circle Harry has ever seen and the boy vaguely recalls her advising him to work on drawing geometric shapes.

So this was why...

"Each Circle is unique, and alchemists are known to make their own Circles that can become a trademark of theirs. There are different components that go into different Circles, but no matter how complicated or basic, there will always be a circle."

As she explains this, she adds other shapes and symbols to the design, and when she finishes, she places the piece of wood in the circle's center.

"In order to make the correct circle, you must know what you are transmuting, and have it in contact with the circle. That is the Comprehension portion. You must know _what_ you are using, _how much_ of it is available, and _how much_ you will use. This all happens before the actual Transmutation occurs, but it is arguably the most important step of all."

She kneels beside the circle, "Deconstruction and reconstruction happen one after another, the process is very quick, so you need to watch carefully. I will try to slow the process as much as I can so you can see the deconstruction step."

Her gloved fingers touch the circle's edge, and blue light fills the room. The students watch in awe as the wood in the center changes shape before their eyes. Harry barely catches the wood's shape breaking down before it begins to build up into a new design.

The light fades, and Professor Elric removes her hands from the edge of the circle and removes her creation from the center of the circle, holding it up for the class to see.

Harry gasps.

It's a scale model of the Hogwarts castle. He can see each individual window, and there's even a tiny owl on the window to the owlry, it's wings spread to take flight.

The Professor gives the model to the student closest to her, Blaise Zabini, who takes the item with care, like it's a fragile family heirloom, and looks down at it in awe that Harry rarely sees on the composed Slytherin's face.

She instructs him to pass it around so everyone can get a proper look before she turns her attention to the rest of the class again, "That was an example of transmutation. The creation I made was more complicated than I expect any of you to make on your first try. Most people when they are beginning make something more simple, like a bird or a toy horse. We will start with wood, as that is the most basic transmutation, and if I think you are ready, we will transition to some of the more common metals. Afterward, and I don't expect this to happen by the end of this year, but by next year, if I remain here, you might begin to choose and develop a specialty."

There were murmurs of excitement. One of the louder ones that Harry caught was, "I sure hope she comes back next year!"

Professor Elric clapped to get their attention, "Quiet, please. As I said, there is a chance I will not be back next year, so do not get your hopes too high, yet. Are there any questions?"

Hermione's hand raised into the air, and Professor Elric called on her, "Is it possible to do Alchemy without the circle, Professor? It's possible to use wandless magic, though with great difficulty, so does this also apply to Alchemy?"

The Professor looked to the girl for a long moment. She suddenly looked very tired. She took a deep breath and began, "Under normal circumstances, no. It is not possible to do so. However, there are people who are able to perform Alchemy without a circle, myself included. I will not tell you how it is possible, because it is dangerous and you all do not have the experience or skill in alchemy to even be thinking of doing such a thing yet."

As she said this, the Hogwarts model was passed to Harry, and he got the chance to really see how detailed the model was.

Alchemy really was amazing.

He stared at it for a little longer before he snapped out of his awe and passed the model on.

"Are there any other questions?" the professor asked.

No hands went up.

Her visible eye closed in acceptance, "Very well. Move the desks back into place and I will begin the lecture. Begin!" she clapped and the students were all off faster than Harry's Firebolt, including Harry.

The rest of the class was a review of Alchemical rules and concepts, and they'd been assigned a lot of homework to complete over the course of the break. Most of it involved drawing geometric shapes without the use of stencils or other such items. She had passed out non-lined paper notebooks and pens, citing that they would be easier to write with due to them not requiring refills every five seconds.

She had to give a tutorial in the use of muggle writing utensils due to a good number of the magical-raised students being unsure of how to write with the pens. It was amusing to watch for those who were knowledgeable in the use of muggle technology.

(Flashback End)

...

Harry looks down at the circle in curiosity, "So... what about this Circle makes it so hard to decipher?" he asks, both curious and hoping to get Mustang's watchful gaze off of him.

The man's stare was really intimidating! Why was he staring, anyway? Had Harry done something that would be rude in Amestris? Was the man judging him?

The blonde Professor, oblivious to the boy's internal crisis, responded promptly, "There are symbols in the Circle that the ones who found it weren't able to recognize. From what I can tell, though, the circle has something to do with plasma. I haven't completely deciphered it yet since this is a field I don't hold as much knowledge in. I know that it changes the state of matter, and it reminds me of a circle used by a former State Alchemist named Isaac the Freezer, who changed the state of water to create ice and steam. I have yet to figure out the motive and purpose behind the planting of the circle, though. The 'why', if you will."

The student shifts his focus to Mustang, who was still staring (darn it), deciding it would probably be best to let her concentrate. The man had been observing the exchange quietly, which unnerved Harry slightly. What was he observing, exactly?

"I was wondering," he began, causing Harry to start to attention, "since you are in Juna's class. I was wondering if you could tell me some of your thoughts on the class itself. I'd ask Juna, but as the teacher, she is a bit biased towards the subject, and I want to know how the students see the class."

"O-oh." Harry stuttered out, but he composed himself as best he could, "It's great. We're learning a lot, and while the workload can be... extensive? Y-yeah, extensive... I don't mind that much since the stuff we're learning is actually interesting... Sir. Not to say the classes here are _boring_, but-"

Mustang raised a hand to quiet the boy, and sent him a wry smile, "I understand. School is school no matter where you live. Also, there's no need to call me Sir. Just call me Mustang or Roy. I'm mostly here as a break from formality, anyway. Spending weeks upon weeks in an office debating over this and that can get tiring and dull!" the man complains lightly as he stretches his arms and leans back, "Why don't you have a seat? I'm sure Alloy Eye can graciously clear up some space on the bench."

The man said the last part slightly louder and in a more suggestive tone, as if the words weren't already an obvious clue to what he was asking.

Harry would have laughed, if he wasn't so nervous around the older man.**

He knew the guy wasn't Vernon, but a smaller part of him still felt wary around adults, especially adults he had just met.

He couldn't really refuse the offer, though. His feet were a little sore from standing, and Professor Elric had already cleared up a spot. Harry sat down warily.

"That's a lot for comfortable that standing, isn't it?" Mustang simultaneously commented and asked.

Harry nodded. It was a bit of a tight fit, but they had managed.

"Mustang," Juna began, "Remind me where this Circle was found."

"It was in an alleyway just outside an old warehouse in Central."

"Were there any others found in other places of Central?"

"Not that I am aware of, but it's possible there were developments that have yet to reach me."

"Keep me updated, tell the present officers to keep a lookout for other circles, and to destroy them as they find them. This could potentially be another Freezer." Juna gathers the papers together and sets them aside and moves to sit properly on the bench.

Mustang nods in understanding, eyes suddenly sharper and more calculating before he returns to a more neutral expression.

Harry watches the interaction in confusion. If they realize this, they make no move to correct it.

"Your name is Harry, correct, kid?" Mustang asked, looking down at the younger male sitting next to him. Harry nods.

"You look like you have some questions. Ask away, though I can't guarantee I'll answer all of them."

"So, you're from Amestris?" Harry blurted out, blushing awkwardly when he realized the answer was kind of obvious. He was an _Amestrian_ _representative_! Of course he' from Amestris, your stupid brain!

The man just answers the question, seemingly unbothered by how silly it was, "Yes, I'm Amestris's Representative, sent here to negotiate an alliance with the British magical community. Juna and Maes are also from Amestris, but are here for different reasons, as you can probably see."

"You three seem to be very close," Harry commented. And it was true. The three were on a first-name basis, so they were obviously close friends.

"We are. I've known Juna since she was around... _yay_ big." he gestures with his hand to show what he meant with a teasing smile. On Harry's other side, Juna gives the man the most unimpressed, deadpan stare Harry has ever seen and calmly flips him off. Mustang just returns it with an infuriating smile.

"Don't mind her, she's still in her rebellious phase- OW! Hey!"

She'd thrown a journal at his face.

Harry was amused by their dynamic.

"So..." he began, curiosity getting the better of him, "Where exactly is Amestris?"

"It's near Germany, north of it." Juna responded, "It is why our languages are similar. However, we are surrounded by Drachma, Creta, Aerugo, and a large desert that separates us and Xing, which is partly in Asia and partly in Europe."

Harry had never heard of these countries, and he said so.

"That's understandable. We are a group of isolated countries and tend to keep to ourselves. A long time ago, we were hidden from the world by a combination of alchemy and magic. Most people in Amestris are aware of this from history lessons in school, and I know our existence is written in a decent number of magical history tomes, but I've heard your school History Teacher prefers to focus on Goblin Wars." Mustang explained, and Harry nodded, "Honestly, though, since we tended to keep to ourselves, most of those that are aware of us just pretended we were an urban legend."

"Why bring up an alliance now, then?" Harry asked.

"Because troubling signs are appearing that hint at a need for allies." the man replied, slightly cryptic, but implying more than enough to get his point across, "Unfortunately, that's all I can say on the matter."

"Oh." Harry quieted down. The three people sat in silence.

Troubling signs... The Dark Mark appearing at the Quidditch World Cup counted as a troubling sign, didn't it?

He thought about it. It probably was. It meant there were still Voldemort supporters out there, and that wasn't good.

The boy snapped out of his thoughts to check the time. He should probably be heading back to the library. He stood and awkwardly waved goodbye to the Professor and representative before he went inside to return to the library.

...

Mustang watched Harry leave, and turned his attention to Juna when the kid turned the corner, "He seems like a good kid." the man comments in Amestrian.

"He is definitely one of the more attentive students in my class," Juna responded, scribling some more notes in her journal.

"That's not what I meant, and you know it, Alloy Eye."

"It is still true."

Mustang shrugged and reclined back on the bench, tilting his head up to the sky. It was growing cloudy, and he had a feeling it was going to snow again soon, "We should probably head in. Can't have you getting bedridden because of a little cold." he joked, the double meaning of that statement apparent to both of them.

She pouted, but agreed, rubbing her ports and grimacing in pain, "I'm lucky the winter automail came so quickly. A day later and I would have had to brave the weather with my regular set."

Mustang winced; that sounded awful. He stood and held his hand out to help her up. She took it and let him pull her up before she turned and picked up all her notes and files before the two made their way indoors.

"So. Where would you like to go?" he asks.

"I would like to pay Hughes a visit. Elicia wanted to play, too, and I promised to do a puzzle with her." Juna responded, a hint of fondness finding it's way into her voice that her stoic expression couldn't hide.

The Colonel couldn't stop the small smile from making its way onto his face, "You've really become a part of the family, huh."

Juna hesitates, "I wouldn't say that-"

"I'm only saying what I see. The family has taken you and your brothers in. You three are basically unofficial Hughes children. If they didn't want you around, they'd say it. They love you, Juna. Don't try to deny it."

There was a small, barely noticeable, upward twitch of her lips. Mustang took that as a victory.

The door to Hughes's classroom was reached a mere minute later, and they entered to something heartwarming and sweet enough to nearly have both of them cooing at the cuteness.

Maes Hughes was sitting hunched over his desk in the classroom, grading papers, and perched on his lap was little Elicia, held in place securely by the father's free arm, and coloring in something on a piece of paper with a red crayon that the two Alchemists couldn't quite make out from their place at the entrance. There was a look of extreme focus on her face, her nose was scrunched up adorably in concentration. There were papers fanned out on the floor, filled with various colorful crayon drawings. Gracia was reading a book in a chair she'd pulled up beside the man, and all three looked truly content for the first time in months.

Mustang would have awwed at the scene if he didn't have a reputation to uphold.

Elicia was the first to look up and grinned excitedly when her eyes landed on Juna, "Big Sis Nana!" she exclaimed.

The nickname the girl gave Juna had originally been used because Elicia couldn't pronounce the older girl's name. However, it eventually just stuck, and there were times her brothers would teasingly call her "Big Sis Nana" just to see Juna's reaction. She was the eldest, so the name still made sense, too!

Usually, Juna would just whack them on the head, temporarily forgetting her arm is made of metal and probably shouldn't be used to reprimand her siblings. She'd apologize afterward, but it was always entertaining to watch.

Juna's ears redden slightly, secretly pleased to hear the name leave the little girl's mouth, and she shifts awkwardly. Elicia easily squirms out of Maes's lap with the skill of an experienced escape artist before she runs across the classroom to hug the female Alchemist's leg. Wide puppy eyes look up expectantly at Juna, "Do puzzles with me!" she demands eagerly.

Mustang sees Juna trying to hold back a fond smile, and failing, "What's the magic word, Elicia?"

"... Please?"

The elder of the girls can no longer hold back her grin. She nodded, and the youngest child cheered before dragging the Alchemist away with surprising strength for a three-year-old.

"I'll be returned in an hour or two, I think." Juna called back as the duo made their way into the office, where Mustang just knew a pile of board games and puzzles was slowly accumulating on a shelf in the corner. The Colonel had helped the family move them there, even contributing a chessboard and a deck of playing cards of his own as an "I'm glad you aren't dead" gift to Maes.

Another shelf now had a collection of picture books and drawing pads, and there were crayon drawings hanging on the walls, all signed by little Elicia Hughes with the words "To: Daddy, From: Elicia".

It was finally starting to look like an office owned by Maes Hughes, the man who loved his family more than anything and would never shut up about them.

Mustang smiled at the interaction between Juna and the little girl, "You really have taken the Elrics under your wings, huh."

It was a comment.

Gracia smiles, "I'd say we have. They are wonderful sibling figures for Elicia. I think our little ray of sunshine really helps them, too. It feels like she helps them remember how to be children again, sometimes. It's like they finally have the chance to act like teenagers when they're around her."

Maes nods with a nostalgic grin taking over his face, marks a grade down on the paper in front of him, and turns to the next one with a practiced motion that came with doing too much paperwork. Mustang didn't envy the man right now.

The Flame Alchemist observes the husband and wife, quietly enjoying each others' company. He stays back a bit, not wanting to intrude.

"You are a part of this family, too, Roy." Maes comments, looking up and staring at his fellow soldier with spectacled hazel eyes, "Sit down. Relax. You know we don't bite... Most of the time."

Mustang took the offer and pulled over a chair of his own to join the two adults at the desk, "How have things been with you guys?" he asks.

"Never better!" Maes exclaims, his eyes shining in joy, "I think I really needed this. Thank you for bringing my family here, Roy."

Gracia sets her book down and stands to drape herself over her husband's shoulders in a tender hug, "We really can't thank you enough, Roy."

Mustang smiled and responded, "You shouldn't be thanking me. I was just passing on the message. It was Juna who came up with this idea, and who notified me. If you are going to thank someone, thank her." he turns his gaze back to the office door, "This wouldn't have been possible without her contribution. Hell, the reunion would likely have been much more violent if she hadn't warned me in advance."

They sat in silence. Gracia returning to her book, Hughes grading more papers, and Mustang simply enjoying their company.

It felt so... peaceful. That was a feeling Mustang thought he'd forgotten after Ishval.

He liked it.

Roy gazed at the door to Hughes's office with tired black eyes. Behind that door, Juna and Elicia were experiencing their own moments of peace. Simply being together, doing a puzzle, having fun, being _children_. It was so mundane!

He could get used to this.

...

If someone had told a twelve-year-old Juna Elric that she'd one day be sitting on the floor of her co-worker's office doing puzzles with his three-year-old daughter, she'd have asked what they were smoking.

Yet, here she was, doing exactly that, in a magic school!

"Where do you think this one goes, Nana?" Elicia holds out a piece.

Juna takes in and pretended to observe the shape and color carefully. She knew exactly where it went. It was a pretty obvious location, but she wanted to see if Elicia could spot the location, "It looks like it goes somewhere over here." she points to the general area she knew the piece belonged in, "Shall we try some spots in this area?"

She nods eagerly, and Juna makes a point of trying multiple spots she knew weren't correct before she 'found' the right area. Elicia claps and laughs before picking up another piece and mimics Juna, the little girl's button nose scrunches up in though as she tries to figure out where it goes. Juna fits two more pieces and then looks to see the girl has successfully found the spot for the piece she'd picked and was doing the same with a new piece.

The Alloy Eye Alchemist lets a smile slip as she watches Elicia and all her childish innocence. She'd forgotten there had been a time when she and her brothers had been like this. It felt like so long ago, and maybe it was.

She missed Mom. She missed when she could just run on up to her and cry out, "Look what I made, Mommy!" as she, Ed, and Al held up their latest Alchemy creations to the woman. Mom would usually be either cooking or hanging up the laundry, Juna remembers, and every time she saw them and what they made, she'd smile her gently smile and exclaim how beautiful the creations were, and how they'd become great Alchemists one day.

Juna missed being able to see her smile outside of a photograph.

"Nana look!"

The teen snapped out of her thoughts to see Elicia pointing at the section she'd managed to fill. Juna picked up a random piece to place, and nodded at the section in acknowledgment, "Good job, Elicia."

Elicia grinned and sifted through the remaining pieces to see if there were any other pieces of similar color that might enlarge her section even further.

Juna placed her piece in its proper place and spotted a piece out of the corner of her regular eye that she was quick to pick up. She took in the shape and color and found the spot. She placed it. It fit right in with Elicia's section.

Elicia's eyes brightened and the grin she sent Juna could light a fire in a snowstorm. Juna smiled back and winked (blinked?). The Alchemist had removed her eyepatch since Elicia always thought the metal eye looked cool. She kept the automail eye closed, though. It would do her no good here in the important task of completing puzzles, and she'd rather avoid a migraine, thank you very much!

The two continued on like this until the puzzle was finished. Then, they did another, and then they did one more before Elicia was finally satisfied. The girl had crawled into Juna's lap at some point and now had a picture book open in her lap. Juna watched fondly over the younger girl's shoulder as she flipped through the colorful pages, taking in every word and picture with as much focus as a three-year-old could have.

At one point Gracia came in to get a new book and found the two unofficial sisters engrossed in their activity. The woman snapped a picture before Juna could notice and left silently admiring her new photo with a soft smile overtaking her features.

She loved her little girls, and if she channeled her inner Maes for a second when showing the new photograph to her husband and Roy...

Well, nobody ever said she couldn't, and she was going to take full advantage.

...

The next day, when Professor Elric was teaching her sixth-year class, there was a knock on her door.

The Professor looked to the door with barely visible confusion on her face, which caused her students to whisper. What could possibly have the stoic professor showing emotion?

Apparently, it was a little girl with a bright smile and sandy hair tied into pigtails.

The kid ran into the room and hugged the professor's leg, looking up at the girl with wide, green eyes. She said something they didn't understand due to it being in a different language, and the older female responded with something else. It sounded like a question.

Fred and George exchanged looks over a row of classmates. It was the little girl that had made Professor Elric smile during the Yule Ball!

How could they possibly forget being sworn to secrecy for seeing their professor looking happy? They wondered what was going on.

Suddenly, Professor Elric stooped down and picked the girl up, carrying her to the teacher's desk at the front of the classroom before setting her down to rummage around in a drawer.

The girl waited eagerly, bouncing on the balls of her feet in excitement. Some of the more expressive students cooed at how cute she was.

A moment later, Professor Elric resurfaced with a colorful box in hand and gave it to the girl with a handful of words in the unfamiliar language. The girl took it and ran off to the back corner of the classroom.

The class's eyes followed the girl's movements as she unpacked the box to reveal a puzzle, which she immediately started on with vigor.

Professor Elric was quick to return their attention to her, sending them all an unimpressed stare before turning to the board with a new piece of chalk in hand, "As I was saying," she continued like there wasn't a little three-year-old doing puzzles in the back of the classroom, "This rune means-"

Fred and George, despite being on opposite sides of the classroom, glanced back at the little girl, completely in synch.

She had already almost finished assembling the border pieces.

They returned their attention to the lecture before the professor caught them and continued taking notes.

They wondered what Professor Elric's relation to the kid was. Auntie maybe? Sister?

In the end, the class went by with little fanfare and there were only three instances when Professor Elric had to regain the attention of a straying student.

The little girl just worked on her puzzle quietly in the back of the room, unbothered by the lesson going on behind her. In fact, she didn't seem to notice when the bell rang and Professor Hughes entered the room. That gained the attention of everyone.

"Ah, Maes." Professor Elric nods to the man, "Elicia is right there." she gestures to the corner where the little girl, who was likely Elicia. The man thanked her and rushes over to the corner with a wide smile on his face.

"ELICIA! PAPA'S HERE!" he cries as he swoops the girl off her feet and twirls her around before setting her securely on his hip.

"PAPA!" she cries with an equally wide smile and any who weren't already let out soft coos at how sweet the little reunion was. Professor Elric watches, her expression seeming softer somehow despite there not being any change in her face.

The rest of the class watched as well as Professor Hughes turned to her and said, "Thank you for watching Elicia for the period on such short notice, Juna. I hadn't expected to be called to Dumbledore's office, and Roy was already at the Ministry for a meeting. Gracia had also caught a cold and had gone to Madame Pomfrey to get a checkup."

"It was no trouble." Professor Elric shrugged, "She was very well behaved. I'm always happy to watch her."

And with that, she sent a glance to the students, "Aren't you supposed to be going somewhere?"

They were quick to leave after that, discussing the Professor's relation to the little girl and Maes Hughes. By the end of the day, there were various rumors going about the school that ranged from them simply being close friends to Professor Elric being Professor Hughes's secret lovechild.

**Omake: How the Twins Found Out**

It was a dark, stormy evening at Hogwarts. Curfew wasn't for another two hours, but with how dark the sky was, one would have thought it was already long past that time, instead. Sleet and slushy rain poured down in waterfalls, concealing the grounds in a natural camouflage of falling water. You couldn't even see Hagrid's Hut or the Black Lake from the windows. If you were lucky, you could make out a strange blob in the darkness, but most weren't patient enough to look that hard.

It was miserable, so Fred was very happy he and George were firmly planting their behinds on a couch in the Gryffindor Common Room, indoors and away from that exact misery. They were working on the Alchemy assignment, their Herbology Essays were drying beside them alongside a few plans for their latest prank items they wished to add to their joke shop.

Operation Weasley's Wizards Wheezes was still in the works, and while they were desperately underfunded, they were still strubborn and determined.

George was nibbling on a sugar quill as he scrawled out another response. He reached for his bag to get something, but paused as an expression appeared on his face that screamed, "Uh oh, I just messed up spectacularly". "Hey, Feorge?" he started.

"What, Gred?" Fred questioned airily, twirling his quill expertly between his fingers.

"I think I left my bag in the Alchemy classroom."

Fred blinked. George wasn't usually that airheaded, but he was too tired to think about it for long, "Let's get it, then. I think I forgot something there, too, now that I think about it." he hummed thoughtfully.

"What did you leave?"

"I don't think it was important... a quill maybe?" his eyes widened in realization, "Wait! It was my Transfiguration Textbook!"

George snickered, "Not important my arse."

"Oh, shut up." Fred shoved George with a pout, "Let's just go get them Mr. I-forgot-everything-that-wasn't-in-my-hands."

George's ears reddened, but he remained silent and stood to follow his twin to the portrait hole. Little did they know what they would find in the classroom would be much more than just some forgotten items.

They navigated through the halls with ease. Their years spent learning from the Marauder's Map came in handy when finding the shortest and fastest route to the classroom. They reached the door they needed in mere minutes!

Fred nominated himself to do the knocking since the door was closed and it wasn't a Saturday Study Session time. He gave the wood three solid raps with his knuckle.

"Come in." the Professor's voice carried from the other side. They entered.

The first thing they noticed was that she was looking very pale. That wasn't too unusual. She usually seemed to get very pale when it rained. Was she scared of storms? The next thing they noticed was that she wasn't working on anything, and _t__hat_ was concerning. Professor Elric was always working on something! When she wasn't teaching, she was grading, or reading, or writing notes in her research journals. Her hands were never idle, yet here she was, doing nothing other than sitting and staring at her desk. Her eye looked dull and unfocused; it was like she wasn't truly there.

That was not good. Fred and George had never seen such a look on her face.

"Did you two need anything?" she asks, and they subconsciously straighten up.

"Um..." Fred stuttered out with the eloquence of a baby learning to talk, "We just left some of our things here. We came to get them."

"Would these items be a bag and a textbook by any chance?" she inquired.

He nods, and George looks around to see if they were anywhere in the room.

"They are in my office. Come."

In a move that looked like it took more effort than it should, she stood and half walked, half stumbled away from the desk. Once she got to the stairs, she grew more steady, likely due to the railing supporting her weight. Her expression was tight, her normal expression was firmly placed on her face as a not-particularly-convincing mask. She was clearly trying to hide whatever discomfort she was in. And she was failing.

Miserably.

She made it to the final step before her legs gave out under her, and she was sent crashing to the ground with a spectacular string of curses -at least they thought they were curses; they didn't speak whatever language she was using. Fred exchanged a look of concern with George and rushed up the stairs to help her stand. She sent them a distracted nod of acknowledgment before she opened the door and they helped her over to the couch. She plopped down as gracefully as a marionette that had suddenly lost its strings. She looked oddly exhausted despite the fact all she'd done was go up some stairs. Her unfocused eye gazed at them for a moment, like she was trying to remember what she was doing previously. Fred and George waited patiently while she regained her ability to think.

"Your things are on the floor beside my desk." she pointed while massaging her left leg right above the knee.

"Are you alright, Professor?" George finally asked, concern leaking into his voice, "You look like you're in pain."

"Just some old injuries that act up with bad weather." she responded, "It'll pass."

The rain suddenly fell harder and she winced. She outwardly _winced_.

"You need the hospital wing." Fred decided, "Madame Pomfrey could give you something for the pain."

"It's fine." she snapped harshly, causing the two to flinch back. Her expression calmed, "My apologies, the storm's making me irritable. Bad weather brings up unpleasant memories alongside the pain. That was out of line. I'll be fine. There is no need to involve Madame Pomfrey."

Fred picked up his book and placed it into George's bag for ease of transportation. As he did so, his eyes caught sight of a trio of picture frames on her desk.

The photos weren't moving, meaning it was taken by a muggle camera. Well, Fred thought, that confirmed the "lived in the muggle world" theory that went around the school.

The first photo was of three little kids, all smiling widely at the camera. There were two boys and a girl, all dressed in casual, muggle clothes. The girl and one of the boys looked almost identical, grin and all. They had the same hair, the girl's hair was longer, though, and they had the same sharp, golden eyes that caused the twins to exchange a look. Was that girl Professor Elric? The last boy was taller and his hair was more dirty blond, his eyes slightly darker, but it was clear he was related to them through his similar face shape.

The second photo was smaller, able to be fit into a muggle wallet. It was of an older woman with long brown hair and kind green eyes. She wore a lavender dress with a white apron, and it looked like she wasn't aware the picture was being taken because her attention was focused on the two bundles in her arms. She looked at them with the sort of love and affection they saw when their mother looked at them -when she wasn't scolding them for their pranks.

The third photo was what really caught their attention, though. It had three people: a suit of armor that towered over the other two like a friendly giant, a much shorter boy with long blond hair tied into a braid, and Professor Elric. They still looked like preteens. Maybe twelve-ish? The two whose faces could be seen were making silly expressions at the camera, sitting with their legs crisscrossed in front of them on the grassy slope with their arms draped over each others' shoulders. They were dressed in casual muggle attire -t-shirts and shorts to be specific. Their feet were bare. Professor Elric's eyepatch was off and was held in her hand.

These casual clothes revealed there was a lot more to their Professor than they thought.

"Um... Professor?" Fred stuttered out, hoping the girl in the picture was wearing some sort of costume and not what he thought.

She looked to them inquiringly before she noticed what they were looking at and sighed, "I'd forgotten about those photos. I should have moved them when I moved the other one." she muttered, likely to herself, but she was loud enough that they could hear her well enough, and Fred found a pit of dread forming in his stomach at his hope being dashed. She straightened slightly, "Yes. I have metal limbs. They're called Automail, and they're an advanced type of prosthetic created and used by people in Amestris."

The two boys let the information sink in. A realization came upon them. The younger kids in the first photo were obviously Professor Elric and what they guessed were her siblings or scarily similar-looking cousins. Some sort of family, at least. That meant the Professor had lost her limbs when she was pretty young since the pictures showed her as a child. That had to have been painful.

The wind outside suddenly roared, and the rain's sounds were amplified as the giant droplets hit the glass window panes. Another groan escaped her lips, but she quickly cut it off. She took a deep breath to center herself and returned her attention to them, "Ask away."

"How do your metal- um... _Automail_ limbs move so smoothly?" Fred blurted out, his mouth rebooting before his brain.

If she cared, Professor Elric didn't show it, "Automail is different from most prosthetics due to it being directly attached to the user's nerves through ports." she explained, removing her left boot and sock before rolling up her pant leg to reveal the metal that went to a point just past her knee.

The twins looked on with morbid fascination as she pointed out the metal that looked to be attached directly to her skin, and the inflamed scaring around it, "This piece is the port." she explained, "It's installed first to give the prosthetic a place to attach to in order to access the nerves with ease. The surgery to get the port and limbs attached is very painful, and it requires an average rehabilitation time of two years. My brother and I, being the stubborn idiots we were, decided it was a good idea to do it in one year."

Her lips quirked up in a wry smile, "Not our most brilliant idea, but we did it. The limb itself can be detached and reattached, and while I can't feel anything from the limbs, I can move them like they're my flesh arm or leg. My eye is slightly different in that I see heat rather than what a normal eye can see."

"Sounds handy." George commented, "You can see people in the dark with that eye, can't ya?" he seemed to catch himself, "Not that losing an eye is a _good_ thing, but-..." He decides to shut up.

A good move.

She nods, "It's a migraine inducer, but it has its uses." she removes her eyepatch to show them her automail eye, and they stared at it with the same morbid fascination they had when staring at her leg. Well, one of them.

She invited them to sit across from her, and she spends the rest of the time until they had to leave answering their questions on Automail and what it felt like to have it. There were some she refused to answer, like how old she was when she received her automail, and how she lost her limbs. George had automatically apologized for asking before she could even say anything.

Overall, Juna thought as she swore them to secrecy, explaining that Hermione was the only other person to know about these automail limbs besides Professor Hughes and Mustang, this reveal could have gone way worse.

**Aaand scene! That's chapter 7! I hope you guys enjoyed it. I know it's a bit of a filler, but I didn't want to go directly to the Second Task. Plus, I wanted to give the Amestrians some family bonding time.**

**For those who noticed, I gave Mustang P.O.V. some screentime! I felt like those scenes would be interesting from his point of view, and I had already unintentionally written it that way before I realized it. I enjoyed writing from his perspective, so I might do it more often when he's around.**

**Now, onto the footnotes:**

*** Due to the fact there aren't many known Durmstrang or Beauxbatons students, I took the liberty of creating a couple of OCs to act as spot fillers. They aren't going to hold any significance. I just wanted to remind people that Fleur and Krum weren't the only students in the two foreign schools. **

**** I didn't want to put too much focus on the abuse, because that'll take the plot away from what I was hoping for. However, Harry was living in an abusive household for his whole life, and despite the fact some things improved since he started coming to Hogwarts, that fact doesn't change. There's no way he wouldn't have some problems with adult figures after living the first three-quarters of his life fully submerged in that torture, especially with Vernon being... well... Vernon (more like Ver_min_), and I have a feeling two observant Alchemists and a father (Hughes) would definitely take notice; though, I know Hughes wasn't there during the conversation.**

**Anyway, if anyone wants a timeframe for the Omake at the end, I imagined it happening maybe a few days after the Christmas Break. At least, it happened after Elicia came to class for the period.**

**Thank you for reading, and stay safe!**


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